


If i could see the colors you speak

by iisintrovert



Series: Colors [2]
Category: Free!
Genre: "i just have romantic and sexual feelings for another dude, "im not gay guys", Almost Drowning, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Cool, Explicit Consent, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Oral Sex, Panic Attacks, Rimming, Slow Build, Smut at end, Synesthesia, TWO IDIOTS, What Have I Done, autistic Rei Ryuugazaki, backround reigisa, blind! haru au, dorky ness, father mentioned, jerk OCs, makoharu - Freeform, mother mentioned, nerds, rintori - Freeform, severe homophobia, simultanius pinning, slight aquaphobia?, so much gay, swimming!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-04-24 08:54:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 33,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4913134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iisintrovert/pseuds/iisintrovert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haru is a blind, lonely nerd. Makoto is a quiet, peaceful cinnamon roll who just wants to be friends and have another member on the swim team. Maybe.<br/>In which both have no idea of their gayness, and Haru learns how to swim for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like this fic has been postponed for a while now! I've been meaning to make a Makoharu fic for a very long time, and I finally have inspiration! This is going to be a blind!Haru au (ua? Does it count as a universe alteration if it's so extreme?) with a hint of Synesthesate!Haru. I live for responses!  
> Without further ado, the beauty that is this ship!  
> (synesthesia (sin-es-thee-sha) is a mental condition that allows a pathway between different senses. For me, it affects my auditory and taste receptors, as well as making me form personalities, genders, sexualities, and appearances for numbers, letters, and other symbols. For example, the Haikyu! theme song makes me smell vanilla bean and I see the number “4” as a tall, green male who is good friends and a brother figure to the number “2”. In this story, Haru experiences visual/auditory synesthesia which causes him to “see” colorful shapes when he hears certain noises. I only experience this a little bit, but I'll do my best to convey how the colors appear to me.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (synesthesia (sin-es-thee-sha) is a mental condition that allows a pathway between different senses. For me, it affects my auditory and taste receptors, as well as making me form personalities, genders, sexualities, and appearances for numbers, letters, and other symbols. For example, the Haikyu! theme song makes me smell vanilla bean and I see the number “4” as a tall, green male who is good friends and a brother figure to the number “2”. In this story, Haru experiences visual/auditory synesthesia which causes him to “see” colorful shapes when he hears certain noises. I only experience this a little bit, but I'll do my best to convey how the colors appear to me.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: I just finished and posted the last chapter, and let me tell you, reading this bit was a struggle. I started it in the summer of 2015 and it's now almost spring...I did NaNoWrimo in November, and let me tell you, my writing was not up to par. But whatever. It's my life's plot progression. I promise this crap gets better.

_Step. Breath. Click._

_Step. Breath. Click._

The sound of he walking stick brushing against the tile floor sent puffs of graying silver across his imagination.

It was simple. The rudimentary basics for a life like this, and it was something that he was very used to. It isn't difficult in the slightest.

Well, at least that was what Haru had managed to convince himself. The truth was, one was never truly used to an impairment. In his respect, it was a sickness that silenced him after it left him in the dark, unable to successfully call out for help.

Some days Haru would wish the accident never happened. He would sit down, revel in the scent and sounds of the world around him, close his eyes (which had been rendered useless since his fifth year of school) and pretend. Some times he would imagine he could see, and his imagination would take over. Others...well, Haru knew first hand that experiencing something amazing before having it taken away is much worse then not knowing in the first place.

There was always someone in his dreams that he recognized. Haru didn't remember his name, only that he was going to be on a swim team with him the summer of – the accident. Haru fantasized about meeting and becoming friends with this particular person since he introduced himself to Haru and Rin, but after years, he had given up hope.

You see, the boy was the last person he met before he went blind. He was the last person to be kind to him just for the sake of being kind, and not to pity him. The boy was the last person who might have been a friend.

Rin, a boy with long red hair and a dark blue voice had left him after his impairment came, claiming that it was just too difficult to be friends with someone you had to lead around.

“I can learn to fend for myself!” Haru had pleaded. But it didn't matter. He was left alone in the dark again.

_It doesn't matter,_ Haru would always tell himself. _You only remember that boy because he was tall. There isn't anything special about him._

If only he could believe himself.

A particularly resonate sounding Click! pulled him back into the real world, away from his thoughts as Haru's shoulder collided with someone else's bicep.

“Watch it!” a gruff voice called out, ringing and echoing in the locker-lined room. “Where do you think you're – ” the anger in the voice fizzled away. “oh.”

That always seemed to happen. Haru didn't need to be able to see to know that the person – whomever they may be – had taken one angry look at his sunglasses and walking stick before realization dawned on their face, and they remembered that it was politically and socially incorrect to be so much as angry at a disabled person. When that realization faced, and they saw that he couldn't see them or who they were, they would normally just walk away. If he were to reach out and grope the area that he accidentally hit with his walking stick, he would have put money on him feeling nothing but empty air. Not that he would, of course. No need to give anyone any satisfaction for looking down on him.

No, Haru continued with his boring, (yet difficult) task of finding his way to the administrators office. New school, new classes, new map to memorize, and he would be needing a helper.

He stepped forward. _Breath,_ he reminded himself. _Head high._

Swish, click.

His walking stick alerted him of any people, and any people of him. They would stay out of his way. No need to pick on him, to ask questions. Even a the biggest tormentor would leave him alone, not wanting to seem weak for picking on the blind kid.

Step.

He managed to make his way out of the locker room with only a slight bump to the elbow (the result of walking to close to the lockers) and one turn-around (the result of walking too far away from the lockers). It was an improvement from last year. After tripping and falling, he had been completely disoriented and had to ask for help to walk ten steps. Then the year before that, he got lost because the lockers weren't set in even rows. The year before that...let's just say, Haru's parents travel a lot. That means a different school every one or two years. This year was different. He was going to stay at this school until he graduated. After years of explaining to his parents that making their blind child memorize a different three-story building every school year is extremely unfair, they finally relented and agreed to postpone any business-related moves until he went away for college.

But where to step this time? The left? The right? Forward? Haru had no idea. The administrators office was normally close to the lockers room, but how was he supposed to find it?

“Excuse me?” a deep voice called out from his left, sending a pang of color through his head.

Haru turned quickly, nearly falling over. “Hello?”

The voice chuckled quietly. “It's me, Makoto. I'm supposed to be your guide.”

The voice was...calming. No, it was calm. As if Haru was no different then any other person the boy had met. It gave him a sense of peace. 

“Oh.” was all he said.

“Do you need to put your hand on my back, or can you just follow my footsteps?” The boy asked nonchalantly. Haru could tell from where the sound was coming from that the boy was much taller then him, at least one and a half heads taller.

“I can listen to your voice and follow it. I have my stick.” Haru pointed down at his feet, where he guessed the end of his walking stick was resting.

The same chuckle lit up the quiet air between them. “Alright then. The administrators office is this way.”

Step. Breath. Click.

“So...” The taller boy – Makoto – stated. Haru didn't mind. If they talked, it would be easier for him to find his way. “you just moved here, right?”

Haru made a quiet noise of conformation. “A month ago.”

“Well that's good, right! Gives you enough time to be at least mostly acquainted with your new home and this area.” Haru could hear a wide smile in Makoto's voice. _That must be what he looks like,_ he thought. _Bright, smiling. Tall. Probably wide. His voice is deep, that normally means a lot of muscle._

“I guess so. Kinda hard, of course.”

Makoto laughed. “Obviously. Still, you seem capable enough.”

Haru shrugged. He's allowed to do that, considering people could see it. _This guy is_ way _too comfortable. I kind of like it._

“You know...you seem kind of familiar. Were you part of any sort of club?”

Haru shook his head. “I'm socially impaired as well.”

He heard Makoto's quiet giggle again. “You're funny.”

“That's what I'm always told.”

Suddenly, he walked directly into Makoto's back. It was quite a nice back, and a broad one at that, but his face pressed in between Makoto's shoulder blades and he immediately stumbled back, his cheeks fiery. 

“Oh! I'm sorry! I should have told you I was stopping, my bad. You okay?”

Haru stepped back, regaining his balance by placing a palm on the wall beside him. “I'm fine.” he muttered. “Is this it?” he reached forward and ran his hand along the wall, lightly searching for a plaque that might have braille on it.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah this is the office.” Haru felt a large hand wrap around his own, and was guided to a cold metal sign on the wall. His fingers brushed against the hard bumps at the bottom of the plaque. Main office of administration and guidance.

Haru pressed farther, and managed to grasp a door nob.

“Well?” He asked Makoto. “Are you coming?”

Makoto laughed. “Of course.”

 

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

 

“So, your first class is on the second floor, A hall, room 24.”

“Basically, I'm going to need to memorize my way from there to the lockers room.”

Makoto giggled quietly, the noise bouncing off the walls of the empty hallway like music. Haru tracked the sound until it hit the end of the hall. It wasn't long, only about a hundred meters from where he was standing until the end on either side, but that was all he could tell from the echo.

“That's pretty much it. So, tell me about yourself.”

There wasn't much to tell. He didn't speak much, or loud at all, so he couldn't think of a suitable story that might sum up any or all of his experiences, so instead he focused on the usual. A tragic home accident involving a bottle of bleach on a high shelf had marred his eyes beyond repair, and his family travels a lot. What much else was there? His best friend had abandoned him because dealing with a blind kid who lost interest in almost everything was too much to deal with? He thought not.

Haru followed Makoto's voice until he was led to the very end of the hallway on his left. The echo of his jovial voice (and Haru's quiet one) started to branch out, and Haru recognized the strange bouncing sound waves that returned to his ears as a stairway, one that curved upward at a sharp turn.

“So these the stairs?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah, they – ” Makoto's steps paused in their rhythmic sounds. “Wait. How did you know that?” His voice was clearer, with less of an echo. He had turned around to stare back at Haru.

“I heard the echo.” Haru replied, trying to keep his voice nonchalant beside the prickly feeling of being stared at. 

“You can hear that well?” Makoto sounded impressed.

Haru shrugged a shoulder, the one his book-bag wasn't resting on. “I've had years of practice.” His voice had an air of dark humor.

The other boy chuckled. “That's true. Come on, we need to use those stairs.”

“That's fine, just don't be too loud. I need to count them.”

Makoto chuckled again.

Haru turned quickly to his right, and clicked his tongue a couple times. There, he thought. ten steps ahead and then up. He walked forward, the base of his walking stick grazing the smooth tiled floor.  
Click.

Deep breath.

The end of the six foot pole met the base of the first step, and Haru tentatively sat down on the step. He brushed the back of his hand against the floor, and then the side of the step, measuring in his mind how far and wide he would need to step to make it up the stairs like a normal person. The size of the step was roughly the same as that of the ones on his new front porch, though slightly steeper then the stairs that led to the second floor of his home. He could deal with it.

“Second floor, right?” He called over his shoulder.

There was a pause, and then a reply. “Er, yeah.”

Haru smiled. Makoto must have temporarily forgotten that Haru couldn't see him nod his head.  
He placed his left hand on the flat wall beside him, and carefully placed his foot on the second step. Then the third, and fourth, all the way until the twelfth, were he reached the first landing. Haru clicked his tongue, just once, ignoring the soft footsteps behind him. There was no opening in front of him. He wasn't at the next floor yet. Haru continued to walk upstairs.

“You could have just asked.” Makoto muttered.

Haru smiled again. “I didn't need to.”

A rustle of stiff fabric indicated a shrug of the shoulders behind Haru. “Whatever. Just don't hesitate to ask you need help.”

Haru clicked his tongue again, and walked forward onto the second landing. There was a large open doorway, and a hallway behind it, one that stretched out on either side and was about the same length as the one below. Haru felt around for another plaque.

Room 20, the first one read in braille.

He turned straight around and looked for the next sign. Room 22.

Haru kept going until he found room 24, and paused before opening the door.

“Aren't you going to your next class?” he asked to the figure following him.

He heard a chuckle. “This is my next class.”

Haru hoped he hadn't visibly perked up. “Oh? And the next?”

Haru heard another rustling sound, though this one was different from the one he had heard before. Softer, like hair.

“I actually...um, have all of my classes with you.”

Haru smiled. “That's good.”

“Yeah.” Makoto agreed awkwardly.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

Haru would have rolled his eyes if he could. “Come in with me, idiot.”

 

!!!!

 

“Good morning everyone!” A clear, high-pitched voice lit up the class room.

“Good morning, miss Ama-chan.” the class chorused back in a dull, sing-song voice.

“If you could please put up your books, I would like to introduce our newest student!”  
Haru stepped into the class, picked up his walking stick, pressed the button that allowed him to collapse it, and stuffed it in his pocket.

“Would you like to introduce yourself?” the teacher's voice called out, clearer this time. She was facing him.

“I'm Haru. Could you please show me my seat?”

He could hear Makoto attempt to quiet a giggle.

The teacher paused. “I see. Could you tell us something about yourself?”

Haru said nothing.

Miss Ama-chan sighed. “Your seat is the empty one in the back corner, by the window.”

Haru faced ahead stiffly. “Could you please show me my seat?” He repeated.

Makoto chuckled again, and stepped forward. “Haru doesn't talk much. Come on, I'll show you.”  
Haru reached out and place his palm on Makoto's left shoulder, and let himself be led to the very back of the class room.

“On your right.” Makoto mumbled.

He turned again, to face the class, and sat down gingerly at his desk. He pulled his typist out of his pack and tried to make it very clear by his posture that he was ready to learn, and not talk about his condition.

The general sound of chatter in the small room went down an octave, and suddenly sounded much quieter then before. Haru felt the prickling sensation on his skin again.

“It's rude to stare.” He said in monotone, turning his head to face a group of girls in front of him. They giggled uncomfortably. 

 

!!!!!!!!

 

“So, Haru.” Makoto asked. “Did you bring lunch, or are you going to order?”

Haru pointed behind him, at his pack. After a quick argument, Haru had managed to convince the administrators to let him carry his stuff around school instead of bothering with a locker every morning. Not that Haru needed it, but it would make everything much easier.

“I brought a bentos from home.”

“Cool! Do your parents make them, or –”

Haru shook his head. “I cook them myself.”

Another familiar rustle made its way to Haru's ears. He had decided it must be the sound of Makoto's hair when he nods his head.

“That's cool. So, do you want to eat lunch with me and my friends? We eat on the roof, so it's quite a lot of stairs, but I'm sure you can manage.” He chuckled to himself. Haru noted that he did that quite often. Must be nice, he thought. always being comfortable enough to laugh.

Haru smiled. Eating with other people wasn't something he normally did on his first day. He isn't exactly a people person, so he would wait until other people decided to talk to him. They did eventually, and Haru would politely continue the conversation, but they never really considered each other friends. This was going to be interesting.

Then, a painful thought popped into his head. This has happened before...

“You don't...have to.”

Makoto paused. “What do you mean? I'm not doing anything I don't want to.”  
It took a moment for Haru to process that.

Normally it was “I don't mind.” or even “I'm just trying to be nice.” but what he had heard was I want to spend time with you. That hadn't happened before.

“Oh! It's just –”

“People have pitied you?”

Haru sighed. “Yeah.” Silence. “It really makes me uncomfortable, especially when that is there only reason to 'befriend' me.”

Haru didn't hear anything, and it was almost scary.

“Mak –”

The boy in front of him on the stairs burst into laughter. “You think –” he giggled. “I'm only hanging out with you because you can't see me?”

Haru smiled. “Is it true?”

Makoto giggled again. “Er...no. There are many other reasons.”

“Like what?”

“Well, your damn hilarious, for one.”

Haru smiled. “You're great, Makoto.”

“And,” Haru heard another rustle, this one like cloth and hair. Maybe he was rubbing the back of his neck. “I'm pretty curious.”

He frowned. “About what?” He wants to ask you about what happened. He wants to now why you're quiet. He wants to invade your space, play pranks, be cruel, just for laughs – 

“I kinda – I really want to know what your eyes look like.”

Haru let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding in. “They're nothing special.” Makoto opened a door in front of him, and he walked forward. Sunshine fell on his face, except for the area covered by his wide sunglasses. “In fact, most people say they're kind of unnerving.”

Makoto sighed. “Maybe, it's just –”

“MAKO-CHAN!”

Haru stepped back in surprise as a smaller figure dashed past him and wrapped their arms around Makoto. He winced as the loud, high-pitched sound reached his sensitive ears.

“Nagisa-kun, don't be so loud.” Makoto chuckled.  
Haru backed up, bumping into a wall behind him. It was warm to the touch. I must be on the roof, He thought. That didn't exactly help. Haru wasn't fond of loud noises, or being touched. It was panic inducing to be touched out of no where, especially when you can't see who it is. Luckily, the small creature that had attacked Makoto wasn't paying much attention to him.

“Makoto-senpai!” a deeper voice called out from somewhere on the ground. “Come sit with us!”  
Haru felt the stiff cloth of someone else's school uniform brush past his shoulder, and it was quiet again.

A hand touched his shoulder, gently guiding him forward. “Sorry about that,” Makoto whispered, almost directly into his ear. A shiver ran down his spine. “Nagisa can get a bit excited.”  
Haru simply nodded. He should be calming down. Why is he not calm? Why is his heart still racing?

“It's fine.” He replied. But I'm not. Why am I not calm?

Haru stepped forward to where Makoto was leading him. He didn't necessarily need the hand on his back, but it was comforting. He just wished his heart rate would go down.

“Rei-kun, Nagisa-kun, this is Haru-chan. He's in my year. He just moved here from..?”

“Tokyo.” Haru supplied.

“Really?!” Nagisa squealed. “Is it cool there? Oh, I bet it's just amazing! Don't you Rei-chan?”  
The other boy, sitting across from Haru, swallowed a bite of food. “I think it must actually be quite warm at the moment, considering our country's climate.” There was a sound like two pieces of plastic bumping together. “And the city portion might have been too crowded and loud for Haru-senpai.”  
Nagisa sighed, and Rei made a noise of protest as his uniform was rumpled profusely. “You can't just crawl into my lap!” He protested.

Nagisa sighed again, ignoring him. “You're so smart, Rei-chan.”  
Makoto giggled. Haru decided he liked that sound, more then an other sound he had ever heard. It was light and airy, like a wind chime, but somehow also warm and comforting. It sounded...green. Like the color of grass during the spring. It was a color he hadn't seen in years, and he was very happy to have recognized it.

“You two are designed for each other.” Makoto sighed. Haru could have sworn from his tone he was gazing lovingly at his two friends. 

“But – well, statistically, it's unlikely – Nagisa, let go!” Rei stammered.

“So Mako-chan,” Nagisa said loudly, drowning of the noise of him scuffling with the taller boy. “have you tried to recruit him yet?”

Makoto made a surprised noise. “I have not! Haru,” he turned towards him and put a hand on his shoulder. “How would you feel about joining the swim team?”

“I can't swim.” Haru said immediately. It wasn't a lie. He couldn't, not after the accident. His parents would never have allowed him to do such a thing after such a horrendous event. But something about the sincerity of Makoto's voice made him reconsider. If someone was actually willing to invite a blind person onto his team without making an assumption of his abilities, shouldn't he at least give it a shot?

“That's no problem!” Rei called out. “I couldn't either when Nagisa-kun coerced me into swimming   
butterfly for these two.”

“Hey!”

Makoto sighed. “Rei, you joined of your own free will. Besides, it's not like we have try outs. We're the only three on the team.”

Haru tilted his head up to show his face to Makoto. It was something his parents had trained him to do. Always look at people when you're talking to them, even if you can't see them. “But, if I can't swim –”  
Makoto giggled. “I'll teach you.”

Haru looked down. The green was back. It lit up the space between his eyes and brain, overpowering the pale yellow and purples of the other two in front of him, over powering his own gray. It calmed him. If he where to do anything, it was because this lovely color – this lovely person – had convinced him.

“Fine.” He sighed. “I'll join your swim team.”


	2. chapter two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haru begins to realize some of his emotions -- which turns out to be a huge problem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, if you have any questions regarding Haru's synesthesia, don't hesitate to ask!

Haru got home that evening on time, only with the sole determination of an introvert.

There were a few reasons he choose not to stay for the first swim practice of his secondary school life. One, perhaps the most important, was that after hours of socializing he needed time to calm his poor brain down. The second was that he wasn't exactly sure the school would let him do such a dangerous sport for a blind person. The third was that he was scared. Not so much about swimming, as water is perhaps his favorite material item, but the idea of being... _there_. At the mercy of three people he had never seen before this day.

Plus, there was the fact that his heart overreacted when ever he was near the strange, tall boy who seemed to be kind but might be a threat to his small, concealed world. And Haru was concerned. There hadn't been a break in his wall in years.

Haru sighed, shaking his head to rid himself of those thoughts. His bus stop was coming up. It wouldn't do to miss it. He might have to call his parents. He sighed, leaning his head back onto the rest behind him and tried to pay attention to the bumps in the road. It wasn't difficult, finding his way home on his own. After years of being introduced to new environments every few months he could figure out how to get places he was familiar with very quickly. Still, if you get off the wrong bus stop, you're done for no matter your handicap.

Haru promptly lifted his head as the bus stopped abruptly. This was stop number thirteen. _thirteen,_ he thought. _female, redish brown. A stout figure with piggy eyes and a thin, turned up nose. A strange number._ Thirteen was definitely not his favorite. Fourteen, however...fourteen was tall and green with a splash of water-blue in the bottom right corner. Pretty. Male.

Haru shook his head to rid himself of the distracting thoughts. If only his bus stop were number fourteen, it would be much easier to remember.

He gathered his things and made his way off the bus.

~~~

The second Haru opened the old apartments door, he was assaulted with the sounds of his mother cooking food in the kitchen.

The sharp gray twang of the metal spatula scraping against the bottom of the frying pan, the bluish black bubbles of rice boiling. His mother speaking loudly into the cordless phone. It was all so familiar, so human. And it irked him to no extent.

“Mom!” he called, kicking of his sneakers in exchange for his worn pair of house slippers. 

Haru heard her tell the person on the other end to hold on, before her clear, purple voice rang out. “Yes dear?”

“Could you be a little quieter? I can't pay attention to my own thought with all the color.”

The smile in her voice was almost audible. “You and your self-diagnosis.” If he could've, Haru would have rolled his eyes. His parents were always making fun of him for insisting that he had synesthesia. How could he not? Normal blind people don't just see colors whenever the hear anything. His mother just assumed it was his imagination “I'll try, but don't count on it.”

Haru sighed, shouldering his bag, and started to trot upstairs.

“Oh, Haruka, Watch out, I was doing some vacuuming earlier and I left it up the –”

_Bang!_

~~~

Nursing a sore foot, Haru plopped his bag down on the floor and took a few running steps onto his bed, landing with a soft thud.

It had been a while since he'd done this, but he felt the need to relax that was more overpowering then the voice in the back of his head that begged him to do his homework. He pushed his head back onto his pillow, and flicked his radio on.

His small iPod was already attached, ready to play the first song on shuffle. It was an older model, one with buttons he could feel instead of a touch screen, in case he wanted to change the song, but there was no need. Why would he buy songs that he would skip? No, He simply hit shuffle and let the music play.

That was it. Haru removed his glasses and loosened his tie, pulling off his socks and trousers. He let the wonderful sounds of the music tingle over him. The subtle bass felt like warm water splashing over his sternum. The singers voice, like purple ice, landed in his stomach and calmed his mind. He was content to let the sensation of the music and the absolute color wash over him until he couldn't remember any of the events of the day.

Haru was debating himself weather or not he should get up and talk to his parent about joining the swim team when his tired mind got the best of him and he slipped off into sleep, dreaming about tall green and warm sounds, voices that smelled like grass, and pretty numbers that looked much to much like people he knew in real life to be anything less then magical.

~~~

“So?”

Haru's head faced straight ahead. Well, at least he assumed it did. “So what?”

Makoto laughed. “Did you ask your parents? Are you going to join the team?”

Haru sighed. “You know, most people greet others with a simply 'hello.'”

He continued walking forward with the other boy towards class. It had been an uneventful morning, on the bus and inside the locker rooms. He had woken up early to catch the first bus, left a note at the dinner table to tell his parents he would be late home from school, and not to worry, cooked his bentos and left. Nothing suspicious about that. 

He could hear the smile in Makoto's voice as he responded. “That didn't answer my question.”

_Well?_ Haru thought. _Did she really_ oppose _anything I suggested?_ The night before, Haru had confronted his parents at the dinner table. He had asked them if it would be alright if he joined a club at his school, one that a few of his new friends had started. While both of his parents were delighted he was beginning to participate, neither was informed about how it was a _swim_ team. Still, and Haru was only being logical, did it really matter as long as they said yes? It's not like they were interested enough to ask him.

“They said they were happy for me, to have something to do with –” He paused. “ – friends.”

“Well, we are your friends.”

Haru was almost taken aback by the sincerity in Makoto's voice. As if a day of idle chit-chat was an open invitation to each other's lives. He was certainly going to accept. At least, for the time being. Until he discovered that one really wasn't his friend.

“Yeah.” He let himself smile. “Well, any way, they said yes. Does that mean we can talk to the club teacher to get me signed up?”

Makoto's collar crumpled. “Yup! Miss Ama-chan has all the paperwork in the guidance room, and we can fill it out by our selves.”

Haru grinned, almost excited, as he followed Makoto, his walking stick clicking against the wall beside him. Today, the gray noise was warm and inviting.

~~~

There was too much noise for Haru to see.

His brain bombarded him with the image of every sound in the room projected into his mind with enough force to severely agitate him. It wasn't just the room, really. It was that, and the person in front of him.

“I don't want him on a sports team. Absolutely not. Do you understand what a liability it would be for him to be in the water?”

Haru scrunched up his eyebrows below the reflective sunglasses he wore to shield his eyes from others. He wasn't a liability. In fact, Makoto was stressing that much.

“How can you say something like that? His parents gave permission. There aren't any set rules that can prevent him from joining. Besides, it's not even a sports team. It's a club! We don't even require a physical!” Makoto exclaimed.

“Oh? And what if he gets hurt, Tachibana-san? Are you qualified to teach him how to swim?”

“I taught Ryugazaki-san how to swim in only a few weeks, and he hated the water!”

Haru couldn't stand it. Makoto's warm voice had turned to a cool turquoise that stabbed at the air around him, deflecting against the orange rectangles of the administrators, the silver spikes of thr copy machine, the purple of shuffling papers, red of the constant chatter in the room and – 

“It's simply too dangero –”

“Excuse me!”

Makoto and the man fell silent.

Haru clenched his fists. “I was told the club rules by an administrator yesterday. I simply have to have a passing grade in all but one of my classes, permission from the club manager, president, and my parents, and if the club is physical, a concussion form filled out and signed by a parent, all of which I have!”

The administrator spluttered. “Well – I,”

Makoto chuckled coolly. “He's correct. Do you have anything else to say about his condition?”

There was a moment of silence. Haru clenched his teeth, trying to calm down enough to ignore the noise around him. Finally, the man sighed. “Alright. You can join the club. Just know, Tachibana-san, you will be responsible for anything that happens to him on school property, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

~~~

“That was shit.” Haru muttered under his breath as the speed walked towards first period. He hadn't bothered asking the man for a late pass.

“Total shit.” Makoto agreed sincerely. “Have you signed up for a club before?”

“Never.”

He chuckled darkly. “Normally, Its not like that.”

Haru didn't respond, only click his stick against the floor with a little more violence then what was necessary. Makoto hadn't meant it like that. He hadn't meant to suggest that any situation in which Haru was involved in was not normal. Of course, even if he didn't think so, Haru would.

“Just promise me one thing, Haru-chan.”

He tried to seem uninterested. “Hm?”

Makoto sighed. “Remember that I don't think of you like that.”

~~~

The rest of the day went by pleasantly, but excruciatingly slowly.

Haru ate lunch once again on the roof with his new 'friends', he performed well on a pop quiz in English, and didn't trip more then three times the whole day. The only part that made it seem drawn out was that he was actually looking forward for school to end so he could get in the pool.

Just thinking about jumping into the water and letting it fill the space around him could cause him to space out. Last night, Haru had taken an extra long bath to get used to the feeling – not that he wasn't. He very much enjoyed the idea of having enough room to stretch his legs and swim like a merman. And of course there was the possibility of spending even more time with Makoto, and whenever he remembered that, he couldn't help but think of what he had said earlier. It made him with to be able to see if only he could gaze in his direction and attempt to figure out what was going on in his head.

That thought seemed to make Haru's heart speed up more then usual.

After his fourth class period, the bell finally rang for school to end and after-school activities to commence.

Haru jumped out of his seat.

“Woah, Haru-chan, are you excited?” Makoto asked with a tone Haru couldn't quite put his finger on.

“Of course. Where do we go?” Haru stood to attention with his bag in his hand.

Makoto grabbed his hand, and his heart started to malfunction again. _Oh no, not this again._ he thought with disdain. There was something about him that made him feel...odd. Different. Safe, but not... _okay._ Haru tried to shake it out of his head when Makoto began to pull him in a different direction. “I'll show you. Off to the locker rooms!”

~~~

“Is there anything else I should know before I – you know,” Haru tilted his head to look at his feet. Well, where his feet would be. “do the 'swimming' thing.”

“Start practice?”

Haru blushed. “Yeah. That.”

Makoto paused for a moment. “I guess there is one thing, but it doesn't really pertain to swim team.”

“Shoot.”

“Rei has autism.”

Haru paused as well. “What does that have to do with anything?”

A tinkle of green laughter splashed against the inside of Haru's mind. “Well, not much. I'm just saying because it's the only explanation for why he's so brilliant but doesn't really understand metaphors or sarcasm. I just wanted you to know so –”

Haru smiled. “So I wouldn't think him stupid?”

“Well – yeah. You can still say stuff like that, just don't get angry if he answers with facts or doesn't understand. Plus, loud noises kind of freak him out. That's why we don't use a whistle.”

“You use a Nagisa.”

Makoto laughed loudly. “Yeah, I guess he functions the same way. I'll tell him you said that.”

Haru giggled, stepping down the last step in the stairwell with a bit more force then he intended.

It all happened in a moment.

Haru's school shoes slipped on the edges of their tied laces, Haru toppled forward. Makoto reached out to keep him from falling. The taller boy's arm hooked around his waist and Haru's books weighed him down and Makoto lost his balance and then they were laying on the floor in each other's arms.

Makoto breathed against the back of Haru's ear, his knee pressed against his thighs and his palm splayed across his chest and stomach. They were pressed against the floor awkwardly, limbs splayed and tangled, plastic walking stick bent and prodding them. Haru stayed there for a beat, without moving.

“Are you alright?” Makoto finally breathed, air hot on the back of his neck. He slid his hand – possibly unintentionally, but maybe not – up Haru's side to grip his arm and pull him into a standing position.

Haru felt his face burn.

_Oh no._ he thought.

Oh _no._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sorry. Also, autistic! Rei is my favorite thing, so watch out for a fanfic dedicated solely to that in the future!  
> Follow me on tumblr at iisintrovert for high-quality shit posting


	3. chapter three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haru learns how to swim! He also learns that he is a gay dork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...hehe...I know guys it's been a while since I've given you something...but finally, here's chapter three!

Haru hadn't realized how difficult putting a swimsuit on would be without vision.

Of course, he should have known. He should have remembered when Makoto offered him the extra pair of shorts that they were always tight and constricting, and difficult to pull over his legs one at a time, something that was necessary when you had no balance whatsoever (and by that, you're blind). But he hadn't remembered. Of course he hadn't. He was to focused on not letting it show that his heart was racing out of his chest.

It didn't exactly matter, of course. Within thirty seconds of pulling off his slacks and boxers, he was falling.

Again.

His face hit something soft and he heard Makoto yelp loudly, and then he was on the ground, his ass in the air.

Thank goodness he couldn't see, or his embarrassment would have been enough for him to evaporate into nonexistence.

“A – are you alright?” Makoto cried out, stuttering.

Haru grunted and lifted himself from the ground, sitting for a second so he could pull the suit all the way up. “I'm fine.” he muttered, turning away to loosen his tie. He pulled it off with his shirt, folding them neatly and tucking them into the locker behind him.

He heard Nagisa giggling. “Were you just looking at his butt, Mako-chan?”

Rei and Makoto both yelled, “Nagisa-kun!” and Haru burned with embarrassment.

“What?” he laughed, and Rei grunted with discomfort. When ever Haru heard that noise he just assumed it was Nagisa throwing himself into a forceful hug.

Haru grabbed his goggles and swim cap from the bench beside him and waited for the sound of Makoto's bare feet padding out of the aisle to lead him outside to the pool.

Makoto smacked his tongue. “Is that the only cap you have?” he asked.

Haru ran his fingers over the smooth latex. It was his old cap, back from when he swam at the local swim club. He had just found it with his goggles in the bottom of a moving box marked 'memories.' It certainly was a memory. “Yeah.”

Makoto breathed out through his nose. “I think I have an extra silicon that you should use instead.

“What's wrong with this one?”

Makoto clapped him on the shoulder. “Nothing, really, it's just that latex caps don't give enough around the edge. It might give you a headache, especially if your form isn't perfect yet.”

Haru shrugged, letting him fit a much softer, thicker cap into his hands. Their fingers brushed for a moment, and Haru felt his face burn again. _Stop that!_ he told himself. _You're not allowed to think of another guy like that!_

“W-where's the pool?” he asked, remembering Makoto stuttering earlier and decided that it probably wasn't too noticeable. Probably.

He felt a much smaller hand hit his lower back as their shoulder brushed past his. “C'mon, Haru, I'll show you!” he snickered under his breath. “Mako-chan's too big to get his swimsuit on quickly.”

And in that moment, Haru sweared that if the gods took mercy on him it would be a blissful release from the embarrassment.

Still, he walked with Nagisa pulling him along by his wrist, Rei's muffled shuffling behind them.

“Haru, you haven't taken your sunglasses off!” Rei called with surprise.

Instinctively, he reached with his free hand to better situate his glasses on his face. “Oh, yeah. I like to keep them on.”

Nagisa poked him in the side. “You can't swim with sunglasses, silly!”

“I'll just – put on my goggles when we get there.” Just then, his feet left grass and arrived on sun-baked concrete. He felt light reflecting and hitting his chin and face from below.

“And we're here!” Nagisa called out loudly. Haru winced away from him, but didn't want to walk too close to the pool, so he allowed the smaller boy to lead him to a fence and place his hand on the railing. He heard the unmistakeable sound of someone running barefoot along concrete.

“I'm here, guys!” Makoto shouted.

“Hurry up, we might start stretching without you!” Nagisa teased back.

With heavy breath, Makoto arrived beside Haru and called out, “Calves.”

Haru angled his head, confused. Was he supposed to be stretching? In what way? He knew where his calves were, but how was he supposed to follow their lead if he couldn't see them?

“Oi, Haru, bend one knee in front of you, straighten out the other, and bend forward.” Rei told him.

Embarrassed, yet _again_ , Haru did as told and felt the burn in his lower leg. Makoto called for them to switch, and he did the same with his other leg. They ran through a variety of stretches, each one complex and sending an odd sensation to muscles he wasn't even aware could be tense, all the while Nagisa and Rei chatted, Makoto giggling at their obscure comments.

Haru was given detailed instruction on what to do with his legs, occasionally even being granted a demonstration by Rei (who's form was perfect) and Nagisa (who's was not) when he didn't quite get it. “Then they moved on to 'dynamite,' which was what Makoto called dynamics, which Nagisa said was just a funny word for movement. Whatever it was, it involved running back and forth in a straight line, kicking your butt or lifting your knees or walking on your toes, and ended in sprinting for ten meters farther then the finish line. Haru abstained, for fear of running too far and falling into the pool. He wouldn't put it past himself.

“Alright!” Makoto called when they were finally finished. “Rei, Nagisa, I want you to do the usual warm up while I –”

Haru heard, yet again, the sound of someone running down the concrete without the proper shoes. This time, they were wearing heavy dress shoes instead of nothing at all. “Don't start just yet.” a feminine voice called from across the pool deck.

“Hey, Gou!” Nagisa called in response.

“I told you, it's _Kou_ , you idiot.” she muttered, her voice still loud enough to be heard from where she was jogging their way.

Haru looked up at Makoto, confused. “I'll explain it to you later.” he whispered. Haru nodded and tried to look where he thought no one was, pulling Makoto's cap on over his hair and slipping his goggles on under his sunglasses. He folded his sun glasses and set them down on one of the pool chairs he bumped into earlier.

When he returned, Kou-Gou and Rei were discussing 'drills' and swimming techniques for 'ideal form.' Haru, having no idea what that meant, turned and called for Makoto.

“Right here,” he answered, giggling. He was standing just to the left of him.

“What are we going to do?”

Makoto clapped his back and grabbed his wrist, leading him closer to the water. “We're just going to see how comfortable you are with the water before doing actual lane swimming.

Haru nodded. That made sense. He would be fine. There was no reason to be nervous about being in the water with Makoto. No reason to be nervous about swimming.

If he told himself enough times, he could almost believe it.

Makoto took his hand and dropped it over the cap in his hands. “Cap me?”

Haru tilted his head. “What?”

“It's all right, you just have to help me pull it over my head.” He bent down in front of him and brought his hands to his head.

Haru could feel his face heat up. His hair was soft, curling, unlike his own. _Stop that!_ he scolded himself, again.

Makoto held the front of his cap in place and Haru quickly lifted the other end and fitted it over his hair.

He couldn't tell if his heart was beating like that because of nerves, or because of Makoto.

He lead him to a ladder off to the side, and climbed down in front of him. Haru followed. As soon as his body submerged, he relaxed. The water was just deep enough to reach the bottom of his chest, and it was cool relief to the warm weather. He was just about to dunk his head completely under when Makoto grabbed his shoulder.

“Slow down there,” he chuckled. “I don't want you to drown.”

Haru looked away, embarrassed.

“Turn this way and take a deep breath, hold it, then sink slowly underwater. Come up again when you need to.”

Haru nodded. He let his shoulders fall, relaxed. His lungs filled with air and he let his knees bend slightly underneath him and he fell into the water – 

And suddenly, he couldn't here anything. Not his own breath, not the sound of Nagisa and Kou bickering, not Rei kicking and splashing, nothing. Just the cold feeling of the water covering him, shielding him, suffocating him. It was peaceful.

And it was scary.

There was only water, nothing else. Just the wet feeling around him, the silence, the unnerving silence.

Haru reached with his feet to find the ground, but they slipped, and he lost purchase, falling down farther. _Where's the surface?_ he thought with urgency. He couldn't see, now he couldn't even _hear_ –

A strong hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him up to the hot air above him.

Haru took in a lungful of air, coughing away the water he couldn't remember taking in. he was only vaguely aware of Makoto patting him firmly on the back and worriedly providing encouragement.

“It's okay, you're safe, just breath.” he said in a measured tone. Haru tried to nod, but was to buy trying to suck air back into his lungs.

“I'm – I'm okay.” he gasped, shuddering.

“No, you're not.” Makoto put his hands on both of his shoulders and pushed him back against the edge of the pool. Haru's heart sped up, not from lack of air this time. “Just sit there and breath.” he sighed, and then almost as an after thought, added, “You should probably take your cap and goggles off too.”

Haru shook his head. “I don't want to.

“C'mon, just your cap, at least. That way your ears aren't covered as much.”

Haru nodded, reaching up to shift his goggles and slide the silicon over his hair. He made to set it on the concrete behind him, but Makoto took it from his hand. “It's alright, just tuck it into the edge of your swimsuit.”

Haru's breath caught when Makoto did just that.

“I'm pathetic.” he muttered under his breath.

“Never.” Makoto said simply. “Come this way.”

He moved away from the wall and swam for the other end of the pool, Haru following with difficulty. “Where am I going?” he called out.

Makoto laughed. “You'll see!” his kick alerted him to where he was heading in the water, the ripples spilling over Haru and leading him forward, twisting to the side and the other, bringing him forward faster then he could keep up on his feet. He finally kicked off the bottom of the pool and moved his legs in sync with his arms, swimming forward when he was splashed in the face.

“Mako!” he yell, rearing back. The sound of him giggling from behind him made him smile, “You're going to regret that!” he called and kicked backwards to tackle him.

Makoto caught him and laughed as Haru tried (and failed) to dunk him. “Haru, you –” he giggled. “You're swimming!”

Haru steadied himself on his shoulders, letting his feet hit the bottom of the pool. He had been, for a second. His head was underwater. “But,” he turned his head. “I could hear?”

He felt Makoto nod., his neck muscles relax. _You definitely should_ not _be thinking of your friend like this._

“It's all in your head. You can do it, you just have to do it right.” he took Haru's hands and moved them into the water beside him. “Watch. Well,” he chuckled. “pay attention.”

Haru nodded and spread his hands across the water, as if he could recognize the disturbances of the surface just by feeling it. Makoto leaned back and tipped his head under the water, until he floated on his back. He kicked his feet and moved his arms over his head like a windmill. Backstroke...and Haru could tell. The lazy kicks made duller ripples then his arms, Haru could hear them all distinctly. He grinned.

“I can hear you swimming, but I don't know how that relates.”

“I can hear you hearing my swimming.” Makoto called back, his kicks not slowing. They stopped momentarily, and then there was a surge of water as he shot back toward him.

Haru frowned. “I still don't get it!”

Makoto floated up in front of him. “You just have to be at the edge of the water so you can hear the sound of the water splashing, and then, you'll _see_ it.”

“I can't see.”

Makoto smiled. “Even you, Haru. You'll see it.”

He would have rolled his eyes if he could have, but he didn't. He simply backed up to the corner of the pool and balanced himself across the surface of the pool, his arms spread across in front of him. With a deep breath, he kicked off.

And heard – the sound of his own breath. He could here his heart beat, his own deep breath as he pulled his head out of the water under his arm as he crawled forward. His feet met little resistance as he kicked forward and forward until he met the opposite wall. Not wanting to stop, he turned and kicked off again, swimming back. He stretched out his arms, lengthened his kick. He could here cheering but couldn't distinguish the sound of voices to the sound of his own arms and legs and breath and lungs burning pleasantly.

Finally, after two more laps, he pulled up and too a full breath. His chest expanded against the water and his breath was ragged, but he could feel. He could hear. Still blind, but he smiled.

They really were cheering. Rei's loud “Go, Haruka-senpai!” and Nagisa's yelling, Makoto giggling, before they were all patting him on the back and praising him.

“You did it, Haru-chan!” Makoto cheered, and he felt his heart jump into his throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this took a while, and it's really short, but I've been doing NaNoWriMo (national novel writing month) and it's hard to write 50,000 words in a novel while also adding bits to the two on-going fics I have on this site. Still, look forward to some Rin x Nitori as well as a background Reigisa fic! yay!  
> as always, follow me on tumblr at iisintrovert for more gay shit


	4. Can't fight this - is this a feeling?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More slow build, more confused Haru, more slightly dangerous Nagisa, and more...short chapters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More swim team stuff. Sorry about the wait again, but good news is I've finished my NaNoWriMo novel before the end of November! The next chapters should be coming up a lot quicker now. remember, if you're cool enough to make a post about this on tumblr, remember to tag it as fic: colors. I love you all! Thanks for bearing with me!

“C'mon, is that all you've got?” Nagisa cheered.

Haru shook his head, more for his own concentration, and ducked his face between his elbows. _Breath,_ he told himself. The pads of his bare feet squeaked against the adhesive base of the diving block. _How did I get into this mess?_

He smirked to himself. _Oh yeah, that's right. You agreed to go to the practice instead of just running away like you usually do._

Haru felt a hand relax on the base of his spine, nearly surprising him enough to fall from the block.  
“It's okay, it's just me.” Makoto murmured. “It's just me.”

“I don't think I can do this.”

He heard the green tinkles of his lilting laugh reach his ears, even under his swim cap. “Of course you can, Haru chan. It really isn't too hard. You just have to tuck back like this,” he placed a hand at his shoulder and put stress on the joint. “Then roll forward with your back, then streamline...” he clapped a hand against the back of Haru's elbow. “It should come naturally. With your natural ability, you could be technically perfect by the end of a few practices!”

Haru shook his head. “That's not what I meant.” He let his fingers rub against the lip of the diving block before sighing, relaxing into a sitting position, one leg up and bent, the other dangling towards the water. His foot didn't even brush the surface of the water.

“Then what's wrong?”

He turned his head away from him. His face felt warm, and his embarrassment was almost definitely apparent. “I...I'm scared. I don't have anything to tell me when I'm going to hit the water.”  
Makoto giggled.

“Don't laugh at me!” Haru muttered indignantly. “It's a completely reasonable fear.”

“But you don't think so, do you?”

Haru didn't reply. Of course he didn't think so, he was useless. But really, when he thought about it, it made sense. The fear. He couldn't sense what was in front of him, so he didn't want to hurtle himself forward at the fastest speed he could manage. It did make sense to be afraid.

“How about we do this.” Makoto nudged at his hip. Haru heard his breath catch just slightly from the exertion of pulling himself up to sit next to him. He nearly shivered as Makoto's warm thigh pressed against his own. “You tell me what your scared of, and I'll think of different things we can do to counter.”

Haru lifted his head and pressed the heels of his hands into his knee and the rough platform. His heart was fluttering, probably malfunctioning. His chest hurt from the pressure. He tilted his head to the boy sitting beside his and nodded.

He could here the smile in his voice. “Alright! Shoot.”

Haru sighed. “I'm afraid of not being able to hear.”

Makoto slapped him on the back of the head.

“Hey!”

He just chuckled, and pulled at the bottom of his swim cap. “Just take this thing off. You don't have to practice with it if you don't want to.”

Haru lifted his left hand and obliged, pulling off the thick silicon and tucking the edge of it into the hem of his swim jammers.

“And your goggles?” he asked expectantly.

Haru shook his head. “I'd rather keep them on.”

“Alright.” His laugh lit up green sparks behind Haru's eyes. “Well, what are you afraid of involving taking the dive?”

Haru shrugged. “Not being able to see, I guess.”

“I thought you were used to that.”

“Ha, ha.” Haru would have rolled his eyes if he could have. “I'm afraid that – that I'm not able to tell what's in front of me. I'm used to having my walking guide, or having someone else walk in front of me, but when you throwing yourself into the water –”

“You have your arms out in front of you to break the surface of the water.” Makoto finished.

Haru nodded. “I guess,” he responded, still dubious. He could hear the gray slap of the pool water against the wall below him, the curious chatter from across the pool deck, where Rei, Nagisa, and Kou were situated. They were probably looking this way, wondering why he wasn't diving. Why he wasn't in the water. Why he was sitting much to close to Makoto to be socially appropriate. Haru sighed, getting back to his feet, wobbling slightly. “Alright.” he grumbled. “I'm gonna do it.”

“Are you sure?” Makoto hopped off the block and came to rest beside it. Haru nodded. He placed his right foot back and planted the heels of his hands on either side of the foot in front. Makoto just hummed. “Whenever you're ready.”

Haru leaned back, and faltered. “Will you –” he cleared his throat. “Can you get in the water?”

Makoto patted him on the back, chuckling. “Of course I can.”

Haru heard the slap of water and felt it sprinkle on his calves and wrists. He heard the kick of his feet, the swish of his arms working to tread water. He leaned back, got his feet situated, and shot forward.  
His arms tucked around his ears, his hands out in front of him. He felt the air around his hair, his hands, his neck, his ears, for just a moment, before it was silent. Wet. Black. _Water._ He didn't even feel the impact before he was surrounded by it.

He felt his heart beat speed up, just like last time, heard just the blood rushing through his ears. _You're okay, just do what you did last time._ He kicked, his feet together, arms still out in front of him, tilted upwards, until his head crested the water. He started out kicking and pulling like normal.

It was only a few moments before he realized that he was in the middle of the pool, swimming, with out any idea where any of the walls were. He stopped and planted his feet on the floor. His head and shoulders just barely peaked the surface of the water.

He should have known that something was going to happen when instead of hearing Nagisa's cheering, he heard the patting of bare feet on the concrete. And then the splash. Haru took a step back, pulling his arms around him to use the momentum of the water to push himself back. Nagisa's arms wrapped around his chest before he could get away.

“Good job, Haru-chan!” he squealed. Haru took back what he had thought about the color of his voice. He wasn't orange, pink. He was red.

“Let go of him, Nagisa-kun, you're invading his personal space.”

Haru felt the small boy's hair rub across his cheek as he nodded, and let go of him. The waves of the water hurried up, and Rei was jumping into the water, Makoto was swimming up behind him.

Makoto clapped him on the back. “That was great, Haru.” He was chuckling, jumping up and down off the tiled floor of the pool.

Rei coughed. “What are we going to do now?”

“Now, we start the workout.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Haru began to wonder why exactly he thought joining the swim team was a good idea.

It was the second to last leg of the ladder they were swimming, and he _didn't exactly know how to swim._ He was just following instructions, doing as he asked, diving and forging ahead, meeting the wall and flipping, completing his distance. And then Kou's whistle would blow and he would be pulling himself from the pool, clambering up onto the diving block and starting a whole new set. It burned.

Haru had never done this much exercise in probably his entire life. His lack of sight had been an excuse enough to get out of most gym activities that involved coordination and some forms of running, so his body was most definitely not prepared for this form of exertion. And yet, he was enjoying himself. There was the few seconds of heavy breathing and chatting during what little interval break they had before they had to swim again. The polite little tap against his ankles when Nagisa needed to pass him during breaststroke, the splash against his calves when Rei's butterfly surpassed his, and the congratulatory rub on the shoulder when he completed a set. Nagisa giggling under his breath, careful not to let Kou to hear, swearing that “We're all going to go easy this time, I swear, I'm not gonna let that whistle get to me,” until the last lap and he sprinted anyway.

It was fun. Entertaining. Haru was part of a team, swimming, exhausting himself and stretching all the muscles he hadn't known about. After years of having zero after school activities to do besides homework, it was refreshing.

And then the workout ended, and he stopped kidding with himself. It was entertaining, but he wanted to get out, fall to the ground, and scream. He didn't, of course. He hadn't even the energy for that.  
Kou blew her whistle one last time, signaling the three hundred meter build 'cool down' was finished.  
Haru kicked and floated on his back.

“Well done, guys!” he heard Makoto call out. “We're finished!”

Haru sighed, and made to climb out of the pool. Makoto held a hand out for him, and pulled him to his feet.

“Now remember, we have the regional's meet in two weeks, so we need to get Haru ready to swim freestyle in the relay. If he wants to, of course.”

Haru raised an eyebrow. “You want me to swim at a meet? In a relay? What if I – I could get disqualified and mess everything up for the team.”

Nagisa placed a hand on his forearm and leaned into him. “What? No, you could never do that. And even if you did, we wouldn't blame you.”

Haru wanted to take a step back, but wasn't sure how far away he was from the lip of the pool.  
“It's only a fifty, Haru. Just two laps.” Rei amended gently.

Without really thinking about it, Haru nodded. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Sure.”

He knew they were smiling. He ducked his head, shifting from foot to foot as Makoto listed off a few more announcements, Kou jutting in every once in a while to bring more detail to what he had to say. He didn't retain any of the information. He simply listened, nodding his head when he deemed it appropriate, and kept his head up, as if he were really listening.

Finally, Makoto clapped his hands together and they all bounded off to the locker room.

Haru took a tentative step forward and felt a large hand over his elbow. “Here, I'll take you.”

Haru nodded and let Makoto lead him back to get changed. It was innocent, not special. Normal. And Haru wanted to tell his hear to _shut the fuck_ up _already._ His chest ached from how fast his heart was beating. Makoto stepped forward to lead him down the stairs and his hand brushed down his forehead, clutching at Haru's fingers and he nearly jumped out of his skin. He knew that his face must have been red enough to blend in with a lobster.

“Here,” Makoto murmured, opening the door for Haru to walk through.

He pulled from the grasp on his hand, and made his way to the locker his things were stuffed into. Trying to subtly breath away the fluttering of his heart, he pulled his tee-shirt over his head, slipped his sunglasses on over his goggles, and pulled at the bungee cord, tearing the goggles away from his sore eyelids. He turned from where the three boys were and tore off his – well, Makoto's – swimsuit and replaced the soggy fabric with clean boxers and the jeans he packed this morning.

He sat on the bench, and waited for everyone to be finished getting changed, pulling his school uniform from his back and arranging it back inside.

Nagisa and Rei bustled around, shoving each other into the lockers and chatting amiably, all the while Makoto's spring green laugh tingled against Haru's thoughts. He didn't want to be thinking this way. He didn't even know what 'this way' was. What did it mean? Was he starting to have heart problems from the combination of high school homework stress and the sudden bouts of exercise? He shook his head. That had to be it. He just needed to relax.

“Haru?” Makoto called. “Are you ready to go?”

Haru shot up from his seat, his bag nearly falling out of his lap, and took a step forward much too fast in an attempt to keep his back from falling to the ground. He looped the straps over his shoulders. “Y-yeah.” His voice sounded squeaky, even to him.

He stepped over the bench and made his way over to where he heard Makoto's voice.

Makoto took his hand and led him from the locker room, not knowing that Haru was screaming internally, his heart about to spontaneously explode.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Furiously blushes* Guys I love all the responses people keep giving me. It's truly lovely. Thanks so much!  
> remember to tag any posts, and follow me on tumblr at iisintrovert to get updates on the fic quicker, and feel free (lol) to ask any questions! thanks! -3-


	5. Gasoline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haru has to make his way home from swim practice, but not without putting himself into more awkward situations that make things a bit difficult for Makoto. Also, Kels embarrasses himself by writing his first almost-smut. Enjoy! (Btw I'm cool and indie so I'm just going to name the chapters after whatever song I happened to be listening to while writing)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I JUST REALIZED THAT I HAVEN'T UPDATED FOR LIKE A MONTH YESTERDAY I AM SO SORRY BUT HERE HAVE SOME CHRISTMAS SMUT (not completely makoharu yet, but still cute ;)).

Haru began to realize, as he walked close enough Makoto to feel the heat wafting off his bare arm, that he _really_ wanted to reach out and take hold the taller boy's hand. And that scared him.

He rarely ever felt the need to touch people, to be near them, besides maybe some of his older friends when he was a kid. He certainly never felt the urge to hold any of their hands. But now, he did. He truly did. And more than scare him, it embarrassed him. Haru was starting to pity himself for how often he kept feeling his face heat up like girl from a school love story anime.

He let out a silent sigh, and tried to pay more attention to the click of his walking stick than to Makoto's laugh.

_What is wrong with you?_ he cursed himself. _He's a_ guy. _You don't like guys._ But that just brought up the topic of 'like' and 'feelings' which Haru was clearly bad at interpreting, if it was taking him this long to realize.

Haru tried to mask the shaky breath he took in by coughing into his fist, loudly.

Of course, that just made Makoto rest a hand over his shoulder. _Damn him and his touchy-feely friend affection._

“Haru,” he asked, slight worry in his voice. “Are you alright?”

He nodded, turning his head away and fixing his sunglasses as if that might help to conceal the raging nervousness splaying itself across his cheeks and ears. “I'm fine. Might have just been a bit of water from the pool.” he mumbled.

He heard the rustle of hair from beside him and knew that he was nodding, once again forgetful of how he couldn't see him to notice. Well, he could. But that wasn't the point. It was still adorable.

“So,” Makoto broke the silence, nudging Haru's shoulder with his own. “How was your first swim practice?” he asked.

Haru shuddered. “It was...”

“Exciting?” he offered. “Invigorating? Exercise?”

“... _tiring._ ” Haru finished.

Makoto giggled again. Haru marveled with aw at the amazing green sparks that lit up his eyelids like magical fire. He tilted his head back just slightly and took them in, disguising the motion by sighing loudly and rolling his shoulders. He smelled the crisp spring air, just warm enough for it to be impossible to catch a cold, but still cool enough to be completely comfortable.

“I guess it is a bit much if you aren't already an athlete,” Makoto said, his own voice constricting. Haru could practically visualize his arms lifting over his head and stretching. The urge to find out what his physical appearance was unnerving. Was he tall and lithe? Lanky? All flat planes and sharp edges? Or could he be softer, a little shorter? You know, he could just reach out above his head as well and take hold of his forearms...

Haru shook his head and tilted his head down. _Don't think about it don't think about it don't_ – 

Makoto chuckled, bringing his arm down to pat Haru on the back. If only he knew how that made him feel like he had been set on fire.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The bus ride home was uneventful. You know. Except for the fact that it was incredibly crowded, which forced Haru to, instead of mingling and standing while touching six people surrounding him in limited amounts, step back and lean against Makoto's chest. Subtly, of course. Blushing, he remarked that he was completely wrong about his figure.

It wasn't supposed to be so crowded. Haru thought that the level of people on the bus would be the same as when he uses it to travel home from school. That was reasonable, right? When he stepped on board, he knew when his walking stick clicked against something off the ground almost immediately, that the ride home would be...less than desirable.

There were people everywhere, every seat taken and the hand rails that ran along the ceiling of the bus were filled. Haru started to panic. There wouldn't be room for him and Makoto at all. He would have to be close to all of these strangers, be touched by people he couldn't see – no. He couldn't do it.

Haru nodded his head slowly, pressing backwards – but Makoto had already stepped onto the crowded bus. He was trapped.

He turned his head ahead grimly. He pulled his bus pass from the back pocket of his jeans and held it to the bus driver, waiting for him to gruffly mutter “Next!” before stepping forward as far as he could.

The crowd at five-thirty was a mix between the entirety of the school track team and every working adult in the general vicinity of Iwatobi. They were crushed together like mackerel in a can. Not that Haru cared. Of course he didn't, it was just random people off the streets, standing slightly close to him. What could be nerve wracking about that? He shook his head. _No matter how many times you try to tell yourself, it won't make it true_ , he thought.

The smell of mixing perfumes combined and assaulted his nose as he took in the first breath, unaware that he had been holding it in in the first place. He took an unconscious step backward. Makoto chuckled slightly as Haru collided with his chest, broad and muscular from years of swimming, and _dear lord_ he was built. Haru felt his heart rate pick up in his chest, unbeknownst to the colors wavering about in his head. He recognized a few of them, grays and tans of perfumes and colognes, a shade a tad of darker, and something else, slightly...was that blue?

Haru tried to sniff subtly the air and recognized something of soap and grass, cleanliness. It was _him._

Makoto chuckled again, placing a hand on Haru's shoulder. “Are you alright, Haru-chan?”

Haru shrugged, positive that he had blushed more today than any other in his life. “'M fine.”

He felt Makoto nod, before the bus started up again. Haru shuddered. He stepped back slightly, to steady himself as the bus lurched forward again. His backside rubbed against Makoto's upper leg for a moment.

Nearly squeaking, Haru tilted his head to the ground and tried and failed to completely stop himself from moving as the bus moved along the concrete path of the road. _Quit acting like an idiot!_ he scolded himself. Haru wanted to bury his face in his palms and scream. He heart was beating too quickly, much too quickly, its sporadic thumps hitting his ribcage in a manner that was almost painful. He was positive that Makoto could hear it as well, the blood rushing in his ears, flaming his cheeks because he was being completely _idiotic._

_Just calm down, Haru,_ he told himself. _You're going to be fine. Just try to make some sort of conversation, so it won't be_ painfully _awkward._

Haru sighed, collecting himself. Fuck, he's bad at speaking. “So, Makoto,” he said, only loud enough for him to be heard over the chatter within the bus. “Why didn't we wait with Nagisa and Rei?”

Makoto giggled. “They were taking too long getting ready for a reason. I imagine they would have told us to go ahead anyway.”

“Why's that?” Haru asked, lifting a finger to insure his glasses would stay completely secure.

“They're probably making out or something.”

Haru nodded, lifting his head. “So they're together?”

“No,” Makoto chuckled.

He frowned. “But – why? If they're making out in the locker room –”

Makoto just giggled again. Haru felt a whisper of a tickle against the top of his head, and imagined him shaking his head, just as confused as he was. “Who knows? All I know is that Rei is totally not-subtle about being crazy for Nagisa, and Nagisa is drinking it up.”

Haru nodded thoughtfully. “I can see that.”

Makoto was so silent for a moment, that Haru nearly thought that he had said something wrong. That was when he started to laugh. “Was that – was that a joke?” he asked, holding back chuckles.

Haru thought about it for a second. _I can see that._ See. He sighed with exasperation. “I did not just make a pun, Tachibana.” he huffed.

Makoto just giggled. “Maybe not intentionally, but it was still a good one.”

“No pun is a good pun,” he huffed.

Makoto didn't protest, but Haru knew he was still chuckling on the inside, even if he didn't want to show it to him. _That dope,_ Haru thought, blushing.

The bus came to a shaking stop, and Haru's head shot back up. “What number is this?” he asked nervously.

“I think forth?” Makoto replied, a frown in his voice. _No, don't frown for me_.

“You _think?_ ”

Makoto shrugged. “Why? Is it important?” Haru was just opening his mouth to retort when he made a noise of recognition. “What stop do you get off at?”

“The thirteenth from Iwatobi.” he grumbled.

Makoto nodded. “Alright. I'll show you when you need to get off.” he said, as the bus started up again. Haru took a step forward, walking stick still in hand, when he noticed that there weren't near as many people on the bus as there had been. _They must have all gotten off at the other three stops,_ he thought.

Then, he realized that he was still standing uncomfortably close to Makoto's back, his ass nearly touching him. His heart rate picked up again and he took a few shameful steps forward. “Where's an empty seat?” he asked lowly, turning his head to direct his voice behind him. Makoto stepped next to him and placed a hand on his lower back.

“There's two over here,” he mumbled in a quiet voice. Haru dug his fingernails into his fists in order to keep himself from shivering, and followed Makoto's guide, taking a seat in the plastic chair. Either the big oaf liked boys, or he was entirely too personal. Haru wasn't sure which one he would prefer, and that brought up too many questions that he didn't want to answer in his head in front of the boy in question.

_Wait, boy in question?_ Haru shook his head. Not now. He didn't need to think about this now.

He was pretty much silent for the rest of the ride, not saying much except to return Makoto's polite conversation. All too soon did he alert Haruka that his bus stop would be next. He nodded, unsure if he should be upset. And then he mockingly tipped his hat to Makoto and hopped off the bus.

He was walking along the sidewalk for about a minute before he realized he was being followed. Along with his own breath and the slight thump of his feet, he could here footsteps behind him, only slightly out of sync with his own. Not knowing what else to do, he turned around.

“Are you following me?” he asked, walking backwards at the same pace, his walking stick held behind him.

He heard a familiar chuckle, and let out a breath of relief.

“Haru-chan, I got off the bus with you.”

Haru turned back around. “Why?” he asked.

Makoto quickly fell into place behind him. “We get off at the same stop!”

“We do?”

“Of course. I guess we hadn't noticed, considering we take the bus at different times at night. Do you walk, ride, or drive to school?”

“My mother drives me in.” Haru shook his head. “Wait, the only place near here is my neighborhood! We must be neighbors!” The fact sent a mixture of pleasant and unpleasant thoughts to his head.

Makoto just giggled. “I guess so. I live in the small house at the top of the hill.”

Haru nodded, frowning. “That place only has one bedroom,” he stated.

“Yeah.” he agreed. “I live alone. My mom moved with dad to the city this summer for his job, and took my brother and sister with them. They let me stay here in my grandmother's old place so I wouldn't have to change schools.”

Haru considered that thoughtfully. _There you go, you_ hentia, _he lives without his parents._ Haru quickly shoved all thoughts from his head and quickened his pace, not enough for Makoto to notice, but enough to get his mind off of the _awful thoughts invading his mind._

“I live with my mom and dad at the bottom of the hill.” he said quietly, just to add to the conversation.

Makoto chuckled. “You know, we could go on the bus together in the morning, if you want. Rei and Nagisa ride with me in the mornings when they aren't having sex in the locker room.”

Haru blushed, but nodded. “I'd like that. It would get my mom off my back, anyway.”

“Well then, Haru-chan,” Makoto said, giggling, taking Haru's hand in his own, shaking it firmly, before breaking away just before the stone stairs. “I'll see you tomorrow!”

Haru smirked. “Drop the '-chan.'”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Contrary to popular belief, Makoto was incapable of smiling all of the time. Especially after spending more than a few hours with some adorably clueless blind kid who's lack of motor skills left for some... embarrassing situations. And by that, one means that the second Makoto shut the door to his house he collapsed on the ground and groaned. He tilted his gaze down to his crotch with a positively helpless expression.

“Can you not?” he muttered. His boner didn't respond. After being accidentally ground on by Haru three times in one day, he was in a bad situation.

Makoto put his head in his hands. This was not what he needed, not now, when he had to catch up on his homework, cook food, take a proper shower, _and_ copy down a revised training regimen that included relay work. And now, he had to somehow get rid of _this_ problem. Without ruining the foundation of the whole possible friendship, too.

Makoto sighed and gingerly pulled himself to his feet, lifting his school bag from where it rested over his hips and plopping it down on the hardwood flooring beside his kitchen table.

It wasn't like he could just ignore it, either. It was getting harder to concentrate on the simple tasks of putting his things away, and he knew from unfortunate experience that it would just get worse if he didn't do anything. Moaning from emotional discomfort, Makoto walked (see: waddled) into his bathroom and sat down on the toilet.

This would go one of two ways. The first, the most comfortable and most emotionally damaging, he could take a shower and relieve himself the traditional way. That, or he could just try as hard as possible to think of his dead grandma. The latter was the most favorable scenario. Unfortunately, things were starting to get a bit, er, _painful._ Makoto stood up and peered into the mirror over the bathroom sink.

“Grandma used to live here.” he muttered o himself, screwing his eyes shut. “Her spirit probably roams these walls still, having not had the traditional burial she wanted.” He shook his head. This was ridiculous. He was ridiculous. Much too ridiculous to sustain – Makoto opened one eye to peer down at his trousers. _Still there._

Nearly crying from frustration, he let his forehead fall to the granite counter top and took in a shaky breath. It wouldn't work. His poor, gay, virgin heart couldn't take it. Not only that, but the part of him that sustained at least a shred of innocence dejected any idea of thinking of a _sexually non-confirmed_ boy while jacking off in the shower. It would only upset him. Not only that, but it would encourage him. Makoto couldn't let it happen and remain a good person, could he?

But it was too late. He sighed, mentally punching himself, and reached behind the shower curtain to turn the nob all the way to the left.

He pulled his tie off, unbuttoned his school shirt and folded it, plopping the garments down on the sink counter as steam filled the small tiled room. The relief that came from undoing his belt and unbuttoning his trousers was positively shameful, but he let out a shaky breath none the less. At last, he tore off his boxers and threw them down to the rug. He stepped over the rim of the tub.

Scalding hot water rained down from the shower head, striking his shoulders and slipping down his arms and back, pooling in the dents of his collar bones and lighting up streaks of red wherever the heat touched his skin. He sighed at the feeling. The hot water immediately began to relax away any soreness left in his legs and shoulders, and he reached up to massage the feeling into his muscles.

Ignoring the problem at hand wasn't doing him any favors. His knees were already shaking from the strain of holding him up completely, his unyielding arousal completely evident.

“Really?” he scoffed down at himself. Again, his dick did not respond.

He sighed, planting his hands on his hips and letting the water wash away any sweat or dirt in his pores. There was no point in stalling any more. He had to rid himself of the issue. It wasn't like he had to really _imagine_ the cause of the problem in the first place –

Haruka, tilting his head away, blush lighting up his upper cheeks. He grinned faintly, before bending over on the diving block. His back muscles, working him easily through the water as his legs kicked to keep him afloat, water droplets pooling in the small of his back, just above his –

Makoto clapped a hand over his eyes in embarrassment. _No._

If he was going to do this, he was going to do so on his own terms.

He erased all thoughts of him from his mind and took his arousal in his hand, squeezing just tight enough to provide pressure and easily moving his fist back and forth from his hips. The contact made him shiver despite the heat. Makoto immediately had to lean over the soap stand and press his hot skin against the tile wall. His knees were already about to give out.

Keeping his face from his mind, he gritted his teeth. A low groan escaped his mouth as he quickened his pace, running his thumb over the head. His hips started to roll forward in time with the slow movements of his hands. He didn't even try to keep his stuttering hips back. A high pitched keen fell from his lips, and his face heated from the noise as he imagined someone else's hands, mouth, making him elicit those sounds.

Makoto turned his face and pressed his cheek against the cool tile. Small gasps fell from his lips. Normally he would tease himself, twisting and flicking his wrists and extending the high until he couldn't hold himself back anymore, but this was different.

He bit his bottom lip and pumped with both hands, thrusting into his own grip until steady heat pooled into his stomach. His thrusts started getting more and more uneven, the pace of his hands moving shallowly over his length, aching for release, until he felt himself getting closer and closer to falling over the brink and it was hot and tight and _wet_ and he couldn't take it any longer – 

Makoto groaned lowly as he spilled onto the shower wall, moving his hands in a daze as he milked his shameful orgasm for all it was worth until his legs finally forced him to collapse on the shower floor.

He sat there for who knows how long.

His breath was heaving in his chest, hands and shoulders still sore, either from practice or his earlier activities, but he couldn't care less. Well, he could, but now was not the time.

Makoto let himself sit there until the water started to get too lukewarm to be comfortable. He flipped the nob over to cold, poured some shampoo onto his hands before lifting his fingers to massage the sweat and chlorine from his hair. There was no use buying swimming shampoo – his hair was already permanently tinted olive from the chemicals it was subjected too on a nearly daily basis.

His shower was over quick, and he pulled himself from within, draping a towel along his hips while using another to scrub any water from his hair.

Makoto sighed, completely exhausted and completely pissed at himself and his bodily functions as he meandered over to make himself a cup of coffee.

This swim season was certainly going to be interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So do you guys get that I'm ace and have no idea what I'm doing? I hope not. I wrote that with my whole family in the next room. But hey, now that it's started feel free to comment some kink headcannons or message/ask me at my tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/iisintrovert ... I'm cool I swear. Remember kids, simultaneous and oblivious pining is a before-relationship trope that will never get old! Have a happy Kwanza.


	6. black is the coldest color

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I would appreciate if everyone would look at the tags, as they have been updated. There's a bit of possibly triggering material in here. Other than that, Haru gets a back massage, and conflict arises.

Haru hadn't ever thought about having a crush.

He guessed that it normally came after physical attraction, which was hard to come by when you couldn't see anyone's physical attributes. He then assumed that there was an element of platonic or romantic attraction that followed, resulting in a mild infatuation. Haru wasn't sure. He had never had one before.

He had always tacked that down to the fact that he couldn't see girls and therefore had no prior or current knowledge about what was attractive, but he was beginning to believe that there was more than that. Maybe he had just been – looking in the wrong place. The wrong sex, really.

Haru shook his head and nearly walked directly into his dad's car. Rubbing his now sore hipbone, he switched his walking stick to his left hand and swooped it in front of him, being particularly careful as to not run into anything else. His father was adamant about him not ruining his flower beds.

He made his way inside and up to his room, completely lost in any thought but the one that he had been visiting for the past few days. He didn't want to have to think about it. He prayed that he would just forget. Unfortunately, the more he tried to force the thoughts from his head, the faster they resurfaced, filling his mind like black oil, choking out anything else for him to concentrate on. It was overwhelming.

He sat down on his swirly desk chair and set his bag down on the floor, sighing and placing his forehead against the surface of his desk that was just angsty enough for fulfillment but not so hard as to alert his parents of what he might be doing.

If his parents knew he was upset, they would ask questions. And Haru didn't need any more questions that he couldn't answer.

_Wont answer,_ he told himself dryly.

Well, it was true. He wouldn't answer. He couldn't bring himself to. Haru took in a measured breath, and lifted his sunglasses from where the perched on his face, lowering them to rest gently on his desk. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it carefully and factually. But what way was there to do that?

Haru snorted. It wasn't like he could just watch porn or something to find out if it would give him a boner or something. No, he would just have to...make a list.

Afraid that his parents might find it if he wrote it on an actual sheet with his braille pen, he just leaned back in his cushy chair, pulling his knees up to sit cross-legged, and swirled around, readying himself to do – what ever it was he was doing.

Reason why he might like boys number one: Makoto's voice makes him very happy.

Haru shook his head. That one wasn't factual enough. In fact, he knew that Rin's voice made him happy as well, so there was that.

_Maybe you're gay for him too,_ he thought, before his face heated up and he had to bury his nose in his elbow. That was definitely not true.

He sighed. His face heats up like a school girl every time Makoto touches him. He wanted to be closer to him, wanted to actually know what his physical characteristics were. Plus, there was the fact that he squealed when he had more-or-less ground on him by accident.

Haru was sitting in his desk chair, swirling around with his face buried in his knees because he couldn't stop thinking about some random boy with a green voice. If that wasn't enough, than he would never know what was.

But he couldn't. _He couldn't._ He didn't want to, he didn't want to feel this way, it was difficult and hard and too hard and he would never truly be happy and he can't handle...whatever this was and what he already had and –

Haru slid from his chair and fell to his knees on the carpeted floor, falling down to place his forehead on the ground.

“Argh!” he growled into the wiry cloth. This was too personal, even for him. Especially for him.

But he was able to collect himself. He stood back up and rested on his bed. Of course, he would just run away.

He didn't even blame himself for being cowardly anymore. It had been deemed self protection for a very long time.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Spring was quickly blooming, and turning, once more, and Haru wished that he could admire more than just the temperature. He heard from every corner of the school people chatting about the lovely pink flowers and the clear water, grass finally poking back up from the dead. But the smell – the smell of cherry blossoms and wind acted like his own personal love potion, lighting up his senses in a way that living in the city had never done before.

Haru was doing quite well in school, if it weren't for about four boys he had come in contact with. They were just like the usual, not strong or tough but they worked together to target people significantly weaker than them. Haru had seen it all before. They would pick on him, make snide remarks, perhaps steal his things when he wasn't 'looking,' but never really touch him. Things never got violent.

Haru thought that nobody was going to pick a fight with him without being seen as weak for picking on the blind kid. He was safe. Well, from people. For the time being.

That spring turned to one of the hottest summers on record. The sakura trees quickly faded into yellowing leaves, flourishing and beautiful, providing shade, and of course, clogging the filters of the Iwatobi pool. Which meant more work for them that dug into practice time.

Haru didn't really mind that, of course. The heat couldn't hurt him too badly when he had been living in the city for years, especially while wearing only his borrowed swimsuit, but the sun – the sun certainly hurt.

The second week of swim practice was cut short when Rei pointed out that the pool vents had been filled, once more, by fallen, dead leaves. It had become routine. Someone would realize, and they would all work to remove the leaves from the surface skimmers while one would take turns diving to the bottom of the pool to pull any stray leaves or twigs from the vents there.

Haru nodded at Rei and pulled himself from the pool before getting down on his knees and feeling his way along the tile border of the pool.

It wasn't twenty minutes later and he was standing up, his back aching and sore, not just from crouching in such a weird position. _Oh no,_ Haru thought. _Sunburn._

There was only one option (and no, Haru's mind didn't immediately jump to the conclusion because of any feelings, thank you very much).

“Ne, Makoto?” he called, tentatively touching the base of his spine. It wasn't quite there yet, but he knew his shoulders wouldn't be able to take much longer.

He heard him call from just a few feet away. “What's up?”

“Do you happen to have any sunscreen?” he asked.

Makoto giggled, emerald sparks flying across Haru's thoughts. “You feeling the flame?”

“A little,” Haru admitted. “Unfortunately, I was born susceptible to the wrath of the sun.”

Makoto giggled again, and Haru made his way to the awning of the locker room building as too avoid further damage by form of the fiery ball of gas in the sky. He heard the soft footsteps of large feet following him along.

“Here, I've got some in my bag. You don't have sensitive skin, do you?”

Haru shook his head, placing his hand against the brick wall of the building and followed him inside.

He stood by the doorway awkwardly, waiting for Makoto to finish shuffling through his things and hand him the bottle. He was surprised. “Turn around.” Makoto commanded, standing back up.

“What?”

“You heard me.” he said. “Let me see your back.”

Haru flushed turning his face away. “I can do it myself,” he muttered.

Makoto scoffed. “No, you can't. It's covering your back, you can't reach it all. Besides, we wouldn't want you stretching your shoulder badly if your swimming with us at the meet next week.”

Haru huffed, submitting, and turned around. This wasn't just friendly – not for him. It was embarrassing. It was like having your crush act like your mother –

Haru swallowed, hard, nearly choking on air. _Your crush._ Was that what this was? Did he just admit it to himself? He...he liked Makoto?

_Now is not the time. Of all times, now is literally the_ worst _one._

Of course it was.

Haru bit the inside of his cheek as Makoto uncapped the bottle of sunscreen and squirted it onto his fingers, rubbing the cream between the palms of his hands before smacking them together with a sound that was much too lewd for Haru.

His mouth was half open with protest before Makoto rested his hands against his back and dug his thumbs into the muscles just above his shoulder blades, moving his fingers in a circular motion and Haru nearly _moaned._

Then his face started to resemble the flag of Japan, so he bit down on his lip hard enough to draw blood.

Makoto's large hands rubbed out the creases and kinks and pain and soreness from his back with ease, using the sunscreen to smooth out the panels of his back muscle. Haruka's head fell forward to rest against his chest, his arms dangling uselessly. This, this is what he needed.

Haru practically whined when Makoto pulled his hands away, then became extremely embarrassed because he had just _whined_. Makoto simply giggled.

“How's that, Haru-chan?” he asked innocently.

Haru gave him the best form of glare he could. “What are you, a masseuse?” he asked gruffly.

He heard a rustle of hair and felt Makoto's shoulder brush against him. “I guess. My dad has had three back surgeries, so I've had a lot of practice.”

“You should sell your services.” Haru said. It was seconds after the sentence left his mouth when he realized how that sounded. Makoto chuckled awkwardly. “I – I didn't mean it like that!”

Makoto clapped him on the back, where he was still sensitive from the massage. “Don't mention it. Just get your ass in the pool.” 

Haru nodded at the instruction and hurried over the divide and the grass, clambering and hearing the splash of Rei's butterfly and quite flit of Nagisa's breast stroke. Apparently, the pool was already clean enough to continue practice. And he thought that he would get more then twenty minutes off.

Sighing, Haru lowered himself into the pool, still being kind of edgy about diving into anything, and adjusted his goggles, pulling his cap back over his ears, before finding his lane and kicking off the wall for another two-hundred meter warm-up. The water was cool relief against his skin, filling his need for relaxation as he fell into his pace easily, the few years of training he had as a child coming back to him. It was lovely, until he had to start running timed sprints again.

After practice, he was a panting mess of sore muscle and annoyance. It was refreshing, of course, to be so exhausted and ready for the weekend to start so that he could fully appreciate his time off, but he also cursed that fact that he wouldn't be able to stay up late. There wasn't even the slightest of possibility that he would be able to read or do anything besides maybe eat and take a better shower when he got home. _Perhaps it would just be better to shower here,_ Haru thought.

He pulled himself from the water and meandered over to the locker rooms – Makoto had no announcements to make. He unlocked his locker and pulled out his towel. Wiping himself dry, he listened as Nagisa and Rei made there way inside as well, giggling about this or that, chatting amiably. Nagisa did most of the giggling.

And then came Makoto, sitting down next to Haru just close enough to brush elbows with him whenever he lifted his arms to pull on his slacks or button up his tee-shirt. The slight contact sent sparks of heat and green across his arms and chest, lighting a fire in his chest that couldn't be extinguished, and Haru new he had it bad.

“You did well today, Haru-chan,” Makoto commented.

Haru felt his chest swell, accommodating his beating heart. He simply nodded.

“Yes, Haruka-senpai was certainly pushing himself during the sprint sets.” Rei commented, Nagisa humming in approval and agreement.

Haru simply nodded, pulling his swim cap of and unfolding his black-out sunglasses, let them rest on his nose before pulling his goggles up and over his forehead.

“Aren't you going to get dressed, Haru-chan?” Makoto asked.

Haru shook his head, standing up and stretching. “I'm going to shower here before I leave.”

He could feel his breath on his shoulder as he nodded. “Alright. Do you need my to stay back and ride the bus with you, or will you be okay?”

There he was, being completely kind and yet not pitying at all. He was doing so from the goodness of his heart. He was being protective, nice, able, and yet he would still let him do as he pleased. I warmed Haru's heart to know that Makoto was unlike anyone he had ever known. “I'll be fine on my own,” he murmured, turning away from him. As always.

He stood up, hooking his towel over one of the stall doors, and stepping into the adjoining shower. He turned the water on and let the heat wash over him.

It was nice, being able to immediately rid himself of the staining chlorine of the pool, of the soreness of his muscles by way of water pressure.

He sat there, in the shower, for about half of an hour before he decided he needed to start on his way home if he wanted to get there before dinner. His dad wouldn't be happy about him missing without a call home.

Sighing, he turned off the water and stepped outside, grabbing the towel and throwing it over his shoulders. He was almost about to pull down his swim suit when he froze.

There was a breath drawn, and it wasn't his.

Someone was in the room.

Haru raised a fist slightly, lifting it to clutch his towel just in case. “Hello?”

No answer.

“Nagisa, is that you?”

Again, no answer. Haru's hands were shaking with fear as hundreds of thoughts flew through his brain. His heart was beating even faster than before, but it was a different type of fear. He nearly shivered, hairs standing up on the back of his neck. Someone was here, in the room with him. And he couldn't see them.

Haru jumped as he heard the door fly open.

“So this is him, huh?” someone said with a chuckle. Male. His voice, inky black swirls, choking him like his own thoughts.

“The one that fag keeps making eyes at?”

Haru shrunk back against the wall of the shower. There were three of them, on all sides, cornering him, their steps soft on the rubber flooring and Haru couldn't see them or hear them and –

_Run._ Haru needed to run. He need to get out, to escape, to run. So he did. He knew where the door way, so he pulled the towel from around his neck and swung it out around him, sprinting for the doorway.

He made it out before one of the boys wrapped their arms around his naked waist and threw him into the grass.

His head cracked against the concrete barrier and his limbs sprawled about on the grass, soft and prickly against his bare skin. He was completely disoriented. Where was he? What direction was he facing? He tried to force himself onto his hands and knees when he felt something strike him across the face.

A sneaker, sending him right back into the ground. And suddenly they were on him.

Three of them, one pining him down by the shoulders and arms. The loudest sat on his legs and delivered a hard punch to his stomach, completely knocking the breath out of him. The other kicked him in the ribcage before he could regain it.

“Let go!” Haru screamed, before getting kicked in the face again, splitting his lip. He coughed, wheezing, and tried his hardest to upset the boys keeping him pinned against the hard ground. His struggling was futile.

He lifted his head from the grass only to have his knee stomped on and cried out in pain. The boys just laughed.

“How much do you want to bet that this one's a fag too?” one of the boys asked gruffly, tearing Haru's sunglasses from his face. Haru could hear the thick plastic snapping in half.

The boy sitting on his legs pushed down on his stomach and pounded on his chest until his eyes watered, and he was sure he was going to suffocate. “Probably. They seem to gravitate towards each other, you know? It's disgusting.” he hissed.

Haru tried to shake away when the third boy stooped down and took his head in his hands, biting his ear harshly. “Do you like that?” he whispered in his ear. Haru whimpered. “What? You're a fag, right? Fucking cocksucker, ready to throw himself at the first guy he sees. Well, I guess it's different for you,” he muttered, stroking Haru's cheekbone. “considering you can't see. What do you do?”

“Get away from me,” Haru spat through his swollen lip.

He heard obscene chuckling before he was being hauled from the ground and shoved back down with his face pressed into the dirt. The scent only continued to fill every fiber of his being with terribly, disgusting black. Fear filled him, keeping him from doing little more than just shiver and twist his back, trying desperately to escape, but where would he go? The bus stop? There was no escape – unless he could outrun them and make it too the track's locker room before they left after there own practice, and even then, who would help him?

He sobbed as his nose was pressed even deeper into the grass, chest hitching with fear as the boy behind him pulled his arms up. Haru felt the stick of duct tape wrapping around his hands and wrists. He pulled them apart, as if to rip the confines away, but to no avail.

Haru was hauled back to his feet once more and shoved forward until his feet met concrete.

It was in that moment he knew what was going to happen.

“No,” he whispered, not being able to force anything past his swollen lips and heavy tongue, to scared to raise his voice. “No, _please,_ no.”

The boy holding his taped hands chuckled, more black across the film that was slowly surrounding Haru's soul. “What is it?” he asked, much too close to his ear. “Scared of the water?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mwa ha ha ha!  
> I'm sorry I just love to suffer


	7. Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Haru's heart leaped from his chest for the third time that day. If only that meant that he was with Makoto.
> 
> No, He wasn't. In fact, that would have been the ideal scenario for having his heart leap, even in fear, for it would be his own silly anxiety resulting in Makoto being particularly kind.
> 
> This, this was too much."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about how long this chapter is. Also, no smutties yet. I think this fic is going to be about 12/13 chapters long, jsyk. Also, a concerned commenter asked: There will be No noncon in this fic! That last bit was just a straight boy trying to elicit a response from Haru. Nothing graphic except for aquaphobia and a panic attack

Haru's heart leaped from his chest for the third time that day. If only that meant that he was with Makoto.

No, He wasn't. In fact, that would have been the ideal scenario for having his heart leap, even in fear, for it would be his own silly anxiety resulting in Makoto being particularly kind.

This, this was too much.

Haru swallowed hard, shaking his head weakly as the main of the boys shoved him forward, purposely making him fall to his knees on the concrete. He took in a sharp breath as he felt the skin on his knees rip. He wasn't even given enough time to catch his breath before he was being yanked up by his hair. One of the boys slapped his back, hard, and forced him into a sharp protrusion of plastic and metal. _The starting block._

“No,” Haru whimpered, trying one last time to shake away, to be rid of them, so he could run, _escape,_ anything, to not be forced to –

The third boy, the one who had bitten his ear, leaned in and snarled at him. He pressed something hard and metal into his back. “Do it, or you know what will happen,” he muttered. Haru grit his teeth.

It wasn't a gun. Of course it wasn't. It couldn't be, fire arms are illegal in Japan, they couldn't have possibly gotten one, but there was that little voice in the back of his head asking him _what if?_

So he bit his cheek. And he crawled onto the diving block.

One of the boys climbed up behind him and forced him even further over the edge, holding him loosely by his arms and practically dangling him over the pool. The unseen pool. All of the fear hit Haru at once – the pool was in front of him, his limbs were tied, exhausted from struggling and if he even shifted on the block he was at risk of face planting into the eight-foot water below. It was over. He couldn't do anything else. Panic raced through his mind.

Haru couldn't think of anything that could possibly keep him from breathing in water. _Fear._ Panic overrode all of his senses, flooding his brain and all reasonable thoughts, drowning them away with hard heart beats and shaking muscles. His breath came in rapidly and shallowly. Whimpers directed at no one in particular escaped his mouth, begging, pleading for them to let go of him but that would only speed up what they were planning on doing in the first place.

Haru furrowed his eyebrows as his arms jerked, blood rushing through his ears and _fear_ –

“Stop!”

Haru grit his teeth, ducking his head down to rest against his collar bones. It was just his imagination, he thought, as one of the boys holding onto his elbows let him hang a little closer to the water.

_It's not real,_ he told himself. He wasn't there. It was only his mind, convincing him to have hope to –

“Let go of him!”

“Oh, we plan to.” the boy behind him called out gruffly.

Wait.

He responded. That other voice, how could he not recognize that shade of green, turned steely and hard, not infiltrated by the red strands of fear at all. His own terrified breaths clouded the color with silvery-blue but it was _there,_ none the less. He was there. It was real.

“Lift him back up and put him back down or I swear I'll call the police.”

Emerald. He was lying. Haru's heartbeat quickened once more knowing that he was bluffing, that he had no means of actually saving him, he would drown first, water, fear, _Makoto_ –

But the hands on his arms, keeping him upright, they tightened just slightly.

Haru let out a breath of relief, before he was being shoved forward into the air without a breath in his lungs.

The first thing he noticed, was the quiet. Not the pain of his chest crushing against the water, not the blood rushing through his ears faster than the water around him, but the absolute silence.

It was dark, silent, crushing, _terrible_ and he needed so badly to breath but he couldn't and must at the same time. Water was flowing down his throat, through his lungs, choking him and filling him from the inside out. He was going to die. Panic overrode any sensible thought in his mind. His shoulders flailed, his arms trying desperately to gain some purchase against the water trapping him, but he only sank lower. His feet brushed gently against the rough base of the pool.

_Just let your ears stay above the water, Haru, so you can hear the splash._

He shook his head, the only noise accompanying him was the rush of blood and the painful pounding of his own heart beat.

Water. It flooded his lungs as they ached for air.

Fear.

He was going to drown. He was going to –

As he felt his thoughts fading to blackness, a two strong arms wrapped around his middle and kicked off from the base of the pool. Water pushed through his hair and flattened the strands against his forehead and Haru tilted his face up, praying for the feeling of hot air on his face.

He didn't quite remember being pulled from the pool. He couldn't remember air gracing his body, or the feeling of droplets trailing down his aching body. He first came to when he felt his bloody knees itch against the grass as he coughed up enough water to fill a goldfish bowl.

Haru's bare chest pressed against the ground. His arms were still pressed behind him. Breath finally came and he filled his lungs, gracing them finally with clean, cool air to replace the choking blackness that had filled his entire being. It wasn't enough. He couldn't get enough air, couldn't breath, couldn't hear past his heart beat, achingly loud, crushing him, the water until –

The same large hands trailed down his arms and ripped the duct tape away, pulling him gently from the ground and tucking his head underneath his own, cradling him against his chest. _Makoto_.

“It's okay, Haru, breath. You're safe.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Haru didn't know how long he had been out of it until the shaking stopped, and he found himself able to form coherent words and thought again. He found himself in a surprisingly warm place. Strong, muscular arms held him where he was, kept him safe, enclosed. He sat there for a few moments until his breathing returned to normal. He began to listen to the soft heartbeat and breathing of the person holding gently onto him. The noise was soft – pale, flower green. Green.

Haru shot awake, scrambling from his lap, landing hard on grass and crawling away, his heart racing once more.

“Hey, hey! You're safe, it's okay.” Makoto's voice soothed.

Haru nodded shakily, bringing himself to his feet. “Yeah.” he muttered. He was shivering. A cool breeze flitted over his shoulders and he lifted his arms to hug himself, teeth chattering. Haru wondered how much of the shivering was actually due to the cold. “Yeah, I'm okay.”

Makoto sighed. “I scared you.” He said it was like a fact, an undeniable statement. He had scared Haru. He thought something was his fault.

“No!” Haru protested. “It's not – it's not your fault. I'm just still kind of...jumpy.”

He could hear Makoto take a step forward, hesitant. It broke his heart to feel like he was being treated as delicate. And then everything came back to him in extreme detail. The silence. The boys. _The water._ He was wrong about everything. It wasn't like he had forgotten completely – how could he? He had been dangled helplessly over the one thing that he knew had the power to kill him. But the feelings, the _fear,_ they all seemed to wash over him once more. Haru practically lost his footing and began to shake.

People in this world, they were cruel, there was no longer a doubt in Haru's mind.

He wrapped his arms around his stomach, curving his chest in a defensive position, taking a shaky step towards Makoto. He needed...no, he wasn't quite sure what he needed. He needed peace. He needed to not be with his parents. Most of all, he needed Makoto. He just didn't want to think about it.

Without lifting is head, he mumbled in Makoto's diretion. “Can you...Can you take me home?”

Makoto answered without stuttering. “Of course! Sure, come on, I just need to get my bags. I forgot them in the locker room. I can drop you off at your house. Where's your house? Oh, wait, I know where it is, how silly of me. C'mon, my car's out front. Do you need me to –”

He said all of this in a few seconds, neon words flying from his mouth in quick succession until he noticed Haru shrinking away, raising a weak hand to shut him up.

“I – I can't go home.” he whispered. His voice sounded, even to him, weak. Young. He sounded fragile, like any moment, the wind would blow by and he would fall to the crowd, shattering like a priceless vase. “I'm not sure why, but I just...I don't want to see my parents. Not now.” He shook his head. “I'm being stupid. You don't need to, I'll be fine.”

He was overwhelmed by a feeling of safety and _warmth_ as Makoto wrapped his arms around him again.

And he froze. Well, he melted, was more like it. He let his head tip forward, arms completely limp at his side. Makoto tucked his own head over Haru's. His hair tickled as he whispered something into the top of his head. “You can always stay at my place if you need to.”

Haru nodded, allowing himself for a moment to savor the feeling of his muscular chest pressing against his cheek, his biceps curling against his shoulders. He wondered if Makoto just normally hugged people like this. His skin felt like it had been electrocuted. But somehow...in a good way. Like a tingle of electricity was still trailing across his flesh, his veins, drying him from the inside.

He backed away, head down to conceal his face. That was when he remembered. Hands flying up to his face, he thought _Oh_ shit. _My glasses._

Haru quickly took a step back, eyes shielded by his outstretched fingers.

“Hey, what's wrong?” Makoto asked gently, grass crinkling under his feet.

“Those jack-asses broke my sunglasses.” Haru muttered, ducking his head lower. The feeling of his fingers coasting over the dead flesh of his eyelids ruined the aftershocks of being embraced by Makoto. It ruined everything, actually. “I need them.”

Makoto hummed. He nearly startled Haru when he grabbed his left wrist and pulled him forward, aligning the palm of his hand with his shoulder blade before walking off in the direction of where Haru thought was the locker room building.

They entered, Haru rushing to gather his clothes and change, Makoto rustling through to the corner to retrieve one of his bags – forgotten, thank God. Haru didn't know what he would have done if he hadn't been there for him.

He was startled as he pulled his sock on under his trousers when a hand fell on his shoulder. “Ne, Haru-chan, do you know your parents number? You should probably tell them you're coming over my place, or they might get worried.”

Haru nodded, listing off the characters for him. Makoto punched them in and arranged the cell phone in Haru's hands.

After letting his parents know where he was going to be until next morning, he closed the phone as gently as possible and handed it back to Makoto.

“Makoto?” he asked, perking up. “Is there another bus route, or are we stuck walking home?”

Makoto chuckled. “I drove here, actually.”

“You're eighteen?” he asked, surprised.

Chuckling even more, his hair rustled and he reached down to pick up some of Haru's things. “Actually, no. I'm seventeen, going on eighteen, but don't tell the police force. My parents left me their second car when they went away to the city when I promised I wouldn't take it on a joy ride.”

“And?”

“I lied.” he said simply, tugging Haru to his feet.

Haru nodded, muttering, “Figures,” under his breath and walked with him out to the front of the school, where Makoto's running car was.

The drive home was silent.

It wasn't uncomfortable, really, as they were both completely content so sit quietly in the warm car as the meager light of the street lamps ghosted off their faces periodically. It was very comfortable. Haru leaned against the window, feet tucked underneath his body, arms looped around his knees. He hadn't felt so exhausted in a long time. Maybe it was what had happened earlier that day, or the sun, or maybe the exhausting struggle to reach the surface of the pool without oxygen – whatever it was, he knew he needed to sleep, and he wouldn't be able to do so on his own.

He was too weak, too scared. Too young. Too ridiculous, too anxious, too short, and on top of that too _blind._ He was to weak to even ask his parents for help.

But none of that really mattered. Not at all. It didn't matter, because _he_ had saved him. Clearly, he was stronger. Better. That was enough, wasn't it? To have someone who was strong enough to do things like that as his friend? _If only you wanted him to be your friend,_ he thought to himself dryly. _You know you don't. And because of that, you're going to get your heart broken._

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Are you gay?”

Makoto's hands gripped the steering wheel harder than necessary, and for not the first time, he thanked his dead grandmother Haru couldn't see his blush. “Why – why would you ask that?” _Ah, good choice, Mako. Avoiding the question isn't suspicious at all._

Haru shrugged, pulling himself away from the passenger's side window. “Those...those guys, they were talking about someone.” he stuttered. “ And about me, I guess, but mainly someone else. I got the feeling they were suggesting something about you. Maybe. They, uh,” he coughed, ringing his hands together. “said some pretty rough things. Words.”

Makoto was taken aback. Not by people insinuating things about him, that had been happening for quite a long time now, but the fact that, for some reason, it seemed that Haru was taking the fall. The thought sickened him, and he grunted. “Why?” he nearly whispered. “Why would they try to do that to you and not me?”

Haru shrugged once more, knees pulled up to his chest. He looked very young. His eyes, now closed, after touching them with his hands, were the only imperfection of his smooth, pale face. Raw and red, he looked like he had been crying for hours. There were bags under them that accounted for some sort of sleep deprivation. But he was still completely beautiful – the scars just made him more realistic.

“I think,” he started after a moment. “I think they were doing it to hurt you – or whoever they were calling – you know, _that._ I think they wanted to hurt them by using me.” His voice was quiet, sleepy, nervous. All the things Makoto didn't want for him to have to be.

He was startled from his internal seething was interrupted by Haru letting out a loud huff of air, straightening his legs and back into a normal sitting position. “You never said no,” he commented.

Makoto chuckled. “That's true. I don't really know, you know? Like yeah, if I had to pick a word I'd go with that, but it doesn't really matter to me. I just don't really like to look at girls like that.”

“But you like boys.” Haruka stated.

“I guess. Rei has really nice legs, just so you know. Just don't, ah,” he cleared his throat. “Don't tell Nagisa I told you that.”

Haru giggled. “I wont.”

There was silence once more, punctuated only by the soft sound of Haru's breathing and the quiet clicking of Makoto removing the keys from the dashboard. He unlocked the car doors and quickly got out, jogging around the hood of the car to help Haru's hands into his own, leading him inside of his small, empty house. There were a lot of memories that flooded his mind as he stepped through the doorway and made his way around the kitchen island into his bed room, most of them involving Haru.

He was rummaging through his closet, looking for a spare blanket to throw across the futon when Haru interrupted his quiet muttering.

“Makoto, what do you look like?” he asked, voice gaining confidence after their earlier talk.

Makoto paused, pulling a worn green blanket from the closet and pressing it into Haru's chest, wrapping the wash-softened cloth around his thinner shoulders. “I mean – I only know how to describe my own face in terms of color,” he said.

Haru nodded. “That's fine.”

Makoto shrugged, knowing Haru couldn't see him, and walked back to the small living room, talking all the way. “My eyes are green. Not like that bright green, though, sort of – olive, I guess?” he sighed. “Jeez, this sounds so pretentious.”

“No, it doesn't. It's good. Keep going.” Haru prompted.

Grumbling slightly, He obliged. “I've got brownish hair, I guess. Nagisa says it looks kind of green because of all the chlorine I'm in all the time, but only slightly. I'm dark-skinned.” he looked down at his feet and toed off his shoes, what he forgot to do at the door. “I don't really know what else to say.”

Haru grinned though, pulling the blanket around himself tighter. “That's good. Really good.”

His face fell slightly, just for a second, and he took a step forward. Of course, his knees banged against Makoto's coffee table.

“Shit!” he cursed. Makoto's mouth opened in sympathy and he pulled him forward onto the futon, awkwardly placing a hand above the two clutching where he was sure a bruise would form.

“Are you okay? Do you need me to get ice?”

“No, no, it's fine,” Haru whispered through gritted teeth. “It'll die down in a second.” he chuckled, quietly, despite the pain that must have been bubbling in his knee. “This was a distraction, I tell you. I was trying to ask you something.”

“What _else_ do you want to know?” Makoto asked, feigning annoyance.

Haru breathed out once, holding his hands up tentatively. “I just wanted to...to know...”

Sudden realization passed over Makoto's face. He didn't back away, of course. He lifted his own hands, slowly wrapping them around Haru's own, and brought them up to tenderly run over his cheeks. Haru's fingers were gentle, warm to the touch, softly caressing his cheekbones and the planes of his forehead, trailing along his jawline with wonderful dexterity. He nearly hummed in content. He leaned into the touch, opening his eyes after Haru ran his forefingers over the lids, and stared down into his upturned face.

His mouth opened in a silent 'O,' brow furrowed in concentration as he mapped out Makoto's face in his mind. His hands trailed down his neck, shoulders, clutching his biceps as if measuring how much space he took up. Makoto felt his breath on his face. He could feel the warmth tickle his eyelashes. He felt his hands, fingers, the warmth radiating from his skin, their skin and they were _so close_ he could just lean down and –

Haru's breath hitched and he turned his face away, reddening slightly. He was probably embarrassed for touching Makoto. _No, please don't be embarrassed, please._ he thought. 

Haru cleared his throat. “I'm sorry for freeloading.” he said, leaning back against the coach, hands wringing the blanket in his lap.

Makoto sighed, rustling his hair slightly. “Don't ever apologize for needed something.” he whispered.

He collected himself, turning away from the boy on his couch, and made his way back to his own bed, alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plz go to my tumblr, as some of you have seen the call-out post my cousin and writing buddy made about me being a sinner b/c of chapter five. Same url as on here.
> 
> I liiive for responses. Also, I'm looking for a betta reader/writer partner! If your interested in having me betta anything for you in exchange for bettaing this fic, or one of my novels, send me a message on tumblr or comment!


	8. light a fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little fluff and domestic stuff between the two ^.^  
> Thanks to my beta Neko-desire for helping me with this!

When Haru woke up, he first thought that he was at home. There was sunlight on his face; something that happened normally if he woke up after nine or ten and his mother had opened his curtain in an attempt to wake him up without a struggle. He threw the thin blanket off his lap and stood. His knees hit the coffee table and he went sprawling, hitting the floor at an awkward angle, completely disorientating him.

That's when he remembered where he was, and the entire story leading up to why he was there. He cringed, bringing himself to his feet again. The sound of footsteps filled the small house.

“Haru-chan, are you okay?” Makoto called, stepping into the room. Haru just nodded. Yes, yes I'm fine. Totally.

He sighed, a small breathy chuckle escaping his lips. “Jeez, Haru. You gave me a scare. What happened?”

He shrugged. “I forgot I was here when I woke up this morning. I thought I was at home. There isn't a knee-high table in my bedroom.” he said, rubbing his sore shins. His whole body ached; spots of pain lighting up along his back and stomach, his lip and shoulders felt like they were on fire.

“Oh.” was all Makoto said in response. He made his way over to where Haru was standing and sat down next to him, Haru following suit. “Your – your eyes are nice.” he finally said.

Haru looked away. He didn't need that green voice flowing over his skin, wrecking him, he didn't need for it to tell him things like that. He was broken – he had always known so. He had always known that there was something wrong with having his face mangled beyond repair without having the chance to be able to appraise the damage on his own.

His parents always refused to tell him what his eyes looked like after the accident, telling him that his face has always looked the same and that there was no noticeable difference. He had never been able to see it. So he covered them up, using his sunglasses and goggles to hide the scars, keeping them from anyone else's view. It was his only source of control.

But it was beginning to be too much.

Too much of a secret.

“Makoto,” he asked quietly. “What do I look like?”

Makoto's breath hitched. “You can't – can you not remember?”

“Not really. It's like a dream I had, a long time ago, where I know what everything was supposed to look like but I still can't conjure up the images.” he said softly. Makoto whistled.

“Well,” he started. “You weren't very muscular at first, but it's starting to grow. You have really sharp collarbones and hips. You're pretty pale, and your hands are dainty, like an artists.” he chuckled. “I always assumed you were shy because your head tends to tip downward, but it's really more like you're trying to put your ears in front of you instead of your eyes. Your hair is black, kind of shaggy but not past the nape of your neck. You bangs tend to slip in front of your sunglasses, which I think is really – cool, it's really cool.” he finished, sounding flustered. Haru raised an eyebrow.

“And your eyes.” he breathed. “Your skin is so clear, but then it looks...almost like you just haven't slept in a while, so there's a tad bit of grayish purple around your eyelids – and your _eyes._ They're dark, almost indigo, and frontward facing. They're amazing.” he finished.

“Stop, I'm blushing.” Haru deadpanned, even though he could feel his face heat up. Honestly, he was. “But the...scars?”

He could feel his shoulder brush against his own as he shrugged. “There aren't really any. The skin just looks kind of raw, like you've been wiping away tears with sandpaper. And one of your irises – it's kind of broken, I guess?” He chuckled. “Not to mention, right now you look totally wrecked. You've still got bruises on you shoulders, and a split lip.”

Haru nodded. As was expected. He reached up to his eyes to feel them (well, the skin around them, he still wasn't comfortable with touching his bare eyes), running his fingers along the scar tissue that was his eyelids. He slid the skin over his dead eyes, closing them. “How about now?” he whispered.

“Now you just look like you're sleeping after a long day.” Makoto muttered, voice low and quiet. Haru smiled.

Clapping his hands abruptly, Makoto stood and pulled Haru to his feet. “Well then!” he proclaimed. “We can make breakfast, and then play video games if you'd like!” Haru raised an eyebrow. Sighing, Makoto patted him on the back. “Yeah, I know you can't play them. I just don't have much else that we can do.”

Haru chuckled. “Lets just eat first. Then I can bully you into describing a movie for me while we watch it.”

Makoto walked over to the kitchen. “Will do.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

After a hearty breakfast of leftover rice, scrambled eggs, and fried ham, Haru felt perfectly content. Well, as content as one could be when they were avoiding seeing their own parents. He sighed, rubbing at his face. He would have to face them soon. If not now, then later, and it would just be better to get it over with.

“Hey, Mako,” he started. “I'd love to make you be my movie narrator, but I – I feel kind of guilty, and I need to –”

“You need to tell your parents.” he finished. Haru nodded meekly. “That's completely fine. I'll walk you over!”

Haru grinned, standing, before remembering that he was in someone else's house. “Hey, can I help you clean up before I leave?” he asked, voice low.

Makoto chuckled. “I'm not going to protest, if you want to, but you don't have to.”

“I want to. Feels weird to just eat your food and not help clean up.”

Haru collected his plate as well as Makoto's and scraped the leftover egg and meat into the trash. He handed the dishes to Makoto, who gave him a rag and a clean cup. “You dry, I'll wash.”

“How very housewife of you.”

“Say it again and I'll spray you.”

Haru laughed, scooting away just slightly, with one hand on the counter for awareness. He didn't normally like being in other people's homes or buildings because he didn't know where everything might be, but this was...different. He felt safe. He moved to jostle Makoto's shoulder, wiping the water from his glass and placing it down onto the drain board.

Makoto shoved him back, handing him a scrubbed plate. Haru was rubbing the wet surface with his washcloth when a thin spray of water hit the back of his neck. “Hey!” he exclaimed.

Makoto just giggled. “You asked for it!” he sent another spray Haru's way, but he lifted the rag, blocking the water in its path, before twisting the cloth and swinging blindly his way. He heard a muffled “Oomph!” and knew he hit his mark.

“Oh, you wanna go?” Makoto cried. “Let's go!”

Haru chuckled, putting his arms up in protest as Makoto pinned him against the cabinet and flattened the towel over his head, ruffling his now wet hair.

“Stop, stop! I give up, I surrender!” he said, laughing with his hands planted firmly on Makoto's chest. It took him a moment to realize the position they were in. Makoto's arms on either side of him, caging him in, breath warming his nose, eyes still covered by the towel resting on his head. He felt his heartbeat through his splayed fingers, felt more than that, wanted to feel more than that. Wanted to map out his body like he did his face, to become familiar with him.

Makoto's breath hitched when Haru slid the heels of his hands up to his shoulders, his fingers trembling slightly. Haru was scared. He was scared of his own thoughts, of his feelings, of the tentative touch of Makoto's knees against his. Most of all, he was scared that Makoto wouldn't – wouldn't feel whatever it was Haru was feeling. That terrified him, more than his own feelings do.

He had to. He wanted to say something, to ask if it was okay, but couldn't force the words from his throat. He couldn't make himself admit...he liked him. He wanted him to touch him. Not in any sort of sexual way, but he absolutely _craved_ intimacy. He wanted to be cuddled, kissed, hugged, touched, wanted to have pillow fights and talk about the inevitability of death with him. Too much for having only known him for a few months. Too much. Too much to handle, too much to feel, but he felt it with all of his heart and his heart skipped a few beats and maybe a few breaths and his head started to get fuzzy –

He only noticed that he was elevating himself when his chest collided with Makoto's, their lips crashing together.

There was a symphony of color, greens and indigos splashing across his mind and flooding every sense of his being. Makoto's lips were soft – he smelled like chlorine and grass, soap and person, like safety, home, a clean spring day, _green._ Haru found himself sinking back down onto weak knees when Makoto leaned over him and _kissed back._ He felt the towel slide from his hair and land on the counter top. Makoto wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him closer, enveloping him completely in his warmth.

The kiss was slow, languid. There was no hurry to the even movements of their chapped lips sliding against each other, Makoto's tongue lapping gently and the crease of Haru's mouth until he complied. He tasted like warm water, iron from the raw part of his injured lip. Haru gasped when his own tongue brushed against his, and he realized that he had forgotten to breathe.

Pulling away, gasping from the heat, the kiss, the energy required and the lack of oxygen in his system, Haru leaned against Makoto's shoulder, ear resting just over his heart. “Ma – Makoto,” he panted. “I think I like you.”

He heard the rumble of his chuckle from the within the inside of his chest. “I think I like you too, Haru-chan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg finally these gay dorks were taking forever. Follow me on tumblr, same url as here, and I track the tag fic: thecolors. You can message me about the story as well, or give me smut head cannons! Ask and you will recieve


	9. Over it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These dorks don't know how relationships work...  
> Honestly guys communication is key in fanfic so I'm removing it completely for maximum angst.
> 
> Thx Neko-desire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

There were a few attempts made at starting the relationship.

The first was innocent.

It had been approximately a week since the... _incident._ Haru wasn't sure if Makoto was avoiding him or not. All he knew was that whenever he turned his face to him, he yelped quietly and tried to start a conversation with Rei and Nagisa. Basically, Haru was stuck in an endless void of self depreciation, regret, and maybe a bit of the sharp edge of thrill, the excitement catching at his heart and pulling him down into a pile of absolute trash. Where he _belonged._

There was something to be said about kissing someone who you still, in the back of your mind, thought of as a very close friend. It was wonderful. There was already trust established, and they both clearly cared for each other – but one of the things Haru noticed was that there wasn't much of a difference in their attitudes towards each other. Makoto still did things that allowed for subtle, friendly touches, and made an effort to find ways to be comfortably alone with him. It was the same as it had been.

Haru didn't know what that meant; had Makoto always liked him, or did he still think of him as just a close friend?

_Close friend who you're considerably gay with,_ he thought cynically.

Either way, swimming practice progressed slowly. Haru started to drop a few seconds as he trained, plateauing until it was hard for him to even get within a few tenths of a second from his personal record. Makoto told him that was normal. He didn't really care. Swimming was enjoyable -- Well, mostly. There was the occasional moment of breathlessness that left him dry heaving on the side of the pool, the air bubble that caught in his throat as he tried to turn to take a breath. It was scary, and it sped up his heart rate, but Makoto was always there to pat his back in a “friendly” manner and ask him quietly if he needed to take a break.

Haru always responded by blushing, spluttering, then diving back into the water before Makoto could see his face.

It had been a while since he had used either his goggles or swim cap. His goggles weren't really needed anymore, with his newfound willingness to let people see his face, and the cap – well, after what happened, he wasn't exactly in the mood to be in the water without being able to hear.

Haru swam his hardest for the last leg of his one-hundred, counting off the strokes until he reached the last two laps, and increased the speed of his kicking until the palm of his hand collided with the tile wall underneath the diving block. He had been meticulously counting the strokes and breaths he takes in every lap of the different races he swims, just to ensure he doesn't kill himself during a flip turn. Not that he tell the boys this. He just lets him wonder in awe.

“That was great, Haru-chan!” Makoto yelled as he pulled himself from the pool.

“Drop the '-chan.'” he muttered, turning his head in embarrassment.

Makoto chuckled. “As you wish, Haru. Still, how do you manage to do a perfect flip turn without looking?”

Haru shrugged, walking over to stand by the group. “The water speaks to me.” he deadpanned.

Nagisa giggled, shoving his shoulder with his own, before running off to find –

“Rei-chan!” he shrieked.

Haru backed out of the way instinctively as he heard Rei let out a loud “Oomph!” before chuckling. He heard Makoto giggle happily.

“What is it?” he asked quietly, angling his head in the boy's direction.

Makoto ruffled his hair. “C'mon.” he took his hand without warning and pulled him along to meet their friends. Face heating up, Haru followed. It was innocent, kind, perhaps friendly, the way Makoto began to lead him around the pool by his hand or up stairs, and Haru had no idea what he was supposed to do.

Should he squeeze back? Start initiating contact? Should he, god forbid, _ask_ Makoto why he was holding his hand now?

_Maybe he feels guilty for kissing you,_ he thought to himself, pushing the thoughts of an actual relationship away. _That's the only possibility._

The second time, it's slightly less innocent, and initiated, surprisingly, by Haru.

One week before regionals. Haru's first meet. He's training hard, so hard, harder than he would have thought was in him. He still wasn't trying to drop drastic amounts of time, but he started working on distance during practice. Particularly, the five-hundred meter swim.

Who knows, maybe he could swim the one-hundred yard dash along with one of the longer races. He could use it as a relaxing cool down. Either way, after swimming six five-hundreds he began to tire out and decided that he was going to set off early in order to shower, before bribing Makoto into driving him home.

It worked.

Haru hopped out of the pool, waving his hands in a slightly exaggerated manner to get attention before locating the diving block and pulling his towel from the dry surface. He wrapped the thick cloth around his shoulders.

“Ne, Kou,” he called, head tilted towards the deck of the pool. “I think I'm gonna head off early, I finished the set and the cool down.” He heard her nod right next to him and jumped. “Oh, sorry for being loud, I thought you were over there,” he muttered.

“I didn't even say anything!” Kou giggled. “How'd you know I was here?”

“Your hair rustles when you nod.”

“Oh, well, er,” she protested. Haru felt a tad bit sorry for making her flustered, but it would be better for his plan, anyway. “Yes, that's fine. Go, take a shower, you reek of chlorine.”

Haru grinned and set off for the locker room.

He was interrupted in his path by a large hand grabbing his wrist and yanking him to the right.

“Haru-chan!” he moaned. “You nearly fell into the pool! Do you want a cracked skull?”

Haru didn't pull his hand from Makoto's grip as his hand slid down his arm and into his palm. It was nice, the contact. Even better, it was nice knowing that Makoto cared. It was nice knowing that he was holding his hand, not because he was incapable, but because he was worried (it was also nice knowing he would have fallen into the pool if it hadn't been for Makoto, but that was obvious).

He shook his head, tugging Makoto along to the lockers. He hopped down over the lip and onto the cool tile, made his way to his things. “Did you bring your car again, by chance?” he asked sweetly as he pulled down his swim jammers, back facing him.

“I – uh, yeah, yeah. I got my license issued last week.” he spluttered. Haru bent over to tug up his boxers before sitting down and sliding his jeans on. He threw his shirt on over and buttoned it up, listening intently for whatever clues his little...show? Was it okay to call that a show? Jesus, no, that made him sound like a stripper. He listened to see if Makoto was reacting the way he wanted him to.

“Could you give me a ride home again?” he asked. _Is this even going to work?_

“Totally!” Makoto said much too quickly. Haru smirked. _Probably._ “You know, we can just make this a regular thing now that I'm going to be driving to school. Only if you'd like, of course!”

Haru noted that he seemed a bit breathless.

He didn't know whether that should make him excited or nervous.

“No, I'd love to have a ride.” he said. _Shit, I didn't mean for that to sound dirty. That's it. Time for me to descend into hell._

Makoto just nodded – Haru had gotten better at hearing his little nonverbal cues – and sat down next to him, before stripping off his own leg skins and getting changed.

Never before had Haru wished he could see, if only for a few seconds, just this much.

Finally, they made their way out back to Makoto's car and got in. The roasting heat of the enclosed space was awful. Haru felt like he was getting a sunburn just from sitting on the faux-leather seats, and hissed in pain when he accidentally touched the metal of the seat belt when he clicked himself in.

“You okay?” Makoto asked, concern edging his breathless voice.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” he muttered. “I hate summer.”

Makoto chuckled airily. “I don't, I get to spend time with you during swim practice, after all.

Haru didn't know how to respond to that. Of course he didn't. He could try all he wanted, but when it came down to communication, he was absolutely shit. It was the reason they were in this mess in the first place, after all.

They drove in silence after that, broken only by Makoto's surprisingly loud breathing.

When they finally got to a stop, and Makoto opened his mouth to say goodbye, or _something_ , but Haru ignored him. He un-clicked his seatbelt, leaned over the cup holders, and took Makoto by the collar of his shirt, and did what he did best. He was bad at speaking. Bad at seeing. Showing with actions, however, that...that he could do.

He pressed against Makoto, breathing hard, and brought his own lips up to meet his.

The kiss was slow. Languid, almost, punctuated by the sounds of Makoto's surprised squeak fading into whimpers as Haru pressed his tongue in, _deeper,_ before pulling back and collecting his school bag.

“See you tomorrow morning.” he murmured before walking up to his house's front steps. His heart beat in his chest. For the first time since meeting Makoto, that meant he could relax.

The third attempt, by Makoto, was of course, the least innocent of all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, you might notice that there are only two chapters left. One of them is very steamy. It might take me a while to write that bit, so I don't know if I'll be able to keep up this schedule of one chapter a week, but I'll sure try hard! Love u babies


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )  
> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )  
> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )  
> The lead up to you're favorite part, you allosexual weirdos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO SORY THIS IS A WEEK LATE okay so you see what had happened was I was training for regionals, and all the practices are longer and more sprint-oriented (even tho I swim the mens 500m free (20 laps) and the 200 individual medley (8 laps, 2 of each stroke) -- literally the hardest and most endurance based races fuck me sideways) so I've been to tired to write but tomorrow is regionals so I got off early today to rest! I just have to wake up at 4:30.... Anyway enjoy this I suffered 5 u

There was an extremely insistent bird outside of Haru’s window.

The creature was beeping, almost like an alarm clock, pecking against the glass of his six-paneled window with enough audacity to force him from his peaceful sleep. Haru groaned, rolling over and scrabbling next to his head to find his missing pillow. He was about to fit it over his ears when he realized the thing outside his window...wasn’t a bird.

“Haru-Chan! Hurry and get up, we’re late!”

Haru’s eyes snapped open. Well, not really. But if they had the ability to open on their own then they would have. With his attention grabbed, he sat up in a rush and swung his hands around in a frenzy.

“Haru-Chan, over here!”

He sighed. It was Nagisa, outside his window, not in his room. Technically, he was safe from impending hug attacks. He shook his head and picked himself from his bed, sweaty skin sticking to the sheets underneath him. He arranged his comforter in front of his legs just incase he wasn’t wearing anything (he had a bad habit of kicking in his sleep, usually resulting in him losing both friendships and his boxers). Luckily, he was at least clothed in underwear. Not that nakedness would faze Nagisa anyways.

He stood up and cracked his back, turning to face the window to unlock it, before deciding it would be better to do other wise. “Nagisa, how are you outside my window? I’m on the second floor.”

He heard an obscene giggle, before the faded sound of Rei calling out in fear.

“Oh, I’m fine, Rei-chan! Little wind never hurts anybody!”

Haru cringed. That was it. Of course, he had thought it was a good idea to climb the tree in his front lawn. He was probably terrifying the neighbors.

Haru was weighing the pros and cons of opening the window and kicking Nagisa off of his property when his door flew open behind him. 

“Haru!”

Already assuming a defensive position, he relaxed when he realized it was only Makoto. Makoto?

“What -- what are you guys doing here?”

Makoto just grabbed his hand and tugged him forward, nearly sending him sprawling over his lap. “We need to leave! Don’t you remember? It’s Saturday!”

Suddenly, everything clicked.

“Oh, _no,_ ” Haru muttered. “It’s not --”

“We have to swim at _regionals_ in an hour!”

Makoto’s hands -- still entwined with Haru’s, mind you -- shot from his lap and yanked him along unwillingly, kicking the door open again with a loud _crack!_ and forced Haru out of his room in only a pair of old boxers.

“Wait, I have my bag packed it’s right --”

Makoto placed a warm, bare hand on his naked back and shoved forward. “I’ve got it, just run!”

With an exasperated, sigh, Haru did as he was told and made his way down his stairs, hands outstretched cautiously in case his mother had left something in his way again. He was nearly in his kitchen when he felt an arm, slightly less muscled than Makoto’s, loop around his neck and pull him in the opposite direction.

“C’mon, guys, I need to at least have breakfast!” he whined, resisting as two sets of hands forced silky layered cloth over his arms and legs. It was probably the new team track suit.

Rei grabbed his shoulders and pushed him through the door. Haru thought for a second this was a very violent way to get him to “wake up and smell the roses” as he got a whiff of his father’s flower garden.

Kou’s voice carried over his front lawn from the inside of Miss Amakata’s van. “People who wake up on time get breakfast. Right now, that excludes you. I hope you had a carb-heavy dinner, Haru.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The ride to the large swim-racquet-club downtown was… _interesting,_ to say the least. Haru didn’t know that it was possible for a human being to feel their organs shift in their stomach while the driver of their car executes a turn. But it is.

He actually considered himself lucky for not having any food in his system.

When they finally arrived, Haru stumbled out of the side door behind Makoto, fingers wound in the fabric on his back to steady himself. Haru guessed that his face was probably as green as Makoto’s voice. 

He dry heaved once, Nagisa patting his back through it like a trooper, before using Makoto’s arm to pull himself to an upright position. _If this is an omen for how the day is going to go, then I should just get on my knees and pray,_ he thought, shaking his head.

Makoto took his hand in one of his own again and tugged him forward, pulling him along a concrete path until the team reached a patch of shade. Haru guessed they were standing in front of the building, whatever it looked like.

“Alright, boys,” Miss Amakata started, clapping her hands together. “I need to make sure our team is signed in and then we need to collect a schedule. Gou will lead you to the locker room, and then find us a spot on the bleachers by the pool. Hurry up, we only have a bit of time before warm-ups.”

Haru let out a half-hearted “Hai!” along with the rest of the team, but stood tall anyway.

Nagisa hissed. He took a step back in surprise. _Nagisa? He doesn’t seem like the kind of person to be...is he angry?_

“It’s Samezuka.” Rei hissed.

“Hm.” Makoto agreed.

Nagisa folded his arms. Haru could clearly see him with a pout on his face, feet apart and arms crossed over his chest. “Those assholes. Look at them with their expensive outfits and well rounded athletes. It’s disgusting.” he snapped.

Haru frowned. “Why is that -- why are those bad things?”

Makoto squeezed his hand. “I’ll tell you when we’re not standing so close to their bus. I can’t stand to look at it.”

“ _Bus?_ ”

“Hm.” Makoto tugged him forward by his hand. It was then that Haru realized he had forgotten his walking stick next to his bed. “C’mon, we’re still running on seconds. We need to get changed.”

Haru’s stomach grumbled loudly and he winced. The terrible car ride had only distracted him for the real problem he had to deal with.

“Makoto, I need to have some food in my system.” he complained quietly.

Makoto sighed. “You’ll be fine, I have some power bars in my bag.”

“I need _real_ food.”

“Well, what are you going to have, a -- _oh_ no.”

As they stepped into the building, Haru’s head shot straight up, nose in the air. _There._ “Oh _yes._ ”

“Haru-chan, you can’t just have _Mcdonalds_ before a meet!”

Haru tugged his arm from Makoto’s grip and broke off from his team, walking in a zigzag pattern in the direction of the scent of fried food. “Watch me.” he muttered.

“You’ll get sick! And then you won’t swim well!”

“Nagisa has done worse,” he mumbled, shaking the concerned hand from his shoulder. “I have money in my swim bag for this exact purpose.”

“Haru, that money is for bus fare.”

“I’ll _walk._ ”

“You’re not going to change your mind on this, are you?” Makoto asked with despair.

“Not a chance.”

He sighed heavily, pulling Haru’s bag off his shoulder and dumping it in his hands. “Fine. Do what you have to do, but don’t be late! You still have to warm up, or you won’t be used to the pool in time.”

“Yeah, yeah, I understand. Go get changed if you’re so worried about being late.” He broke away from Makoto and stepped cautiously in the direction of the wonderful smelling food. His mouth watered. Stumbling, he made his way to the counter with his hand stuffed in his bag, searching for his wallet, and was about to ask for a braille menu but decided it would just put more time between himself and the food.

“Is someone there?” he asked in a low tone.

“Hello! How can I help you, sir?” a perky, female voice answered.

“Can I get a teriyaki burger with salt-pepper fries?” he asked, bouncing from one leg to the other. He probably looked like an overexcited child, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Of course! And would you like a drink with that?”

 

~~~~~~~~~

 

Only ten minutes later, he was completely full, prepared to swim with energy that radiated from his limbs. Oh, what magic fast food brought.

The only problem: he’s blind.

Haru sighed. _Well,_ that _was unexpected._

He was standing in the rapidly quieting lobby, waves of people around him traveling in different directions, without the ability to see and with no walking stick. He sighed again, ever one to feel sorry for himself.

_Might as well just --_

“Hey!” Haru called out, hoping that someone would at least be there and willing to give him the time of day. He was lucky.

A sharp, tangy red voice caught him by surprise. A taste to go along with the color? That was always odd. Most of his symptoms were just correlations between sounds and old sights. This one, it was red of course, but it also held the air of something bitter-sweet. Haru imagined maraschino cherries dipped in dark chocolate and packed in a heart-shaped cardboard box.

“What is it, Iwatobi?”

There it was. A bit of snarl, haughty voice deep but quiet compared to those talking around them.

“I just need to know where the locker rooms are.” he muttered, feeling small.

“What, can’t find them yourself? There’s a sign right over there.”

Haru stiffened. He tilted his head in the direction of the other boy’s voice, lifted an eyebrow cynically. He guessed he was probably really facing somewhere over the kid’s shoulder, but that would only improve the desired effect.

“...oh.” he grumbled.

“Yes, ‘ _oh._ ’ Now tell me where the locker rooms are so I can swim.”

“You _swim?_ ”

Haru sighed loudly, and took a tentative step forward. “Are you going to be helpful or not?”

The boy just planted a firm hand on his shoulder and steered him forward,striding past the crowds of people easily. The boy led him off to the right, into a narrowing hallway and around a few corners before slapping him on the back, startling Haru into jumping nearly a foot in the air.

“So, uh,” there was a rustle of hair and fabric, and Haru felt the kid’s elbow brush against his shoulder as he reached up to rub at the back of head awkwardly. “Good luck and all that, I guess.”

Haru nodded, shrugging the boy off as he pulled open the door to the boy’s locker room. A wave of steamy air hit him in the face as they stepped inside. Haru wrinkled his nose.

He knew the boy would be off as soon as he crossed the threshold, so he just wandered over to a bench and placed his things down, changing into his suit as quickly as possible before finding the exit. There was a heavy metal door across from where he assumed the showers were, judging by all of the steam wafting from the walls.

He was only one foot onto the tiled ground when a wet hand grabbed his shoulder.

“Haru-chan! You’re late! Warm ups started half an hour ago, we barely have a few minutes left!”

Haru just shook his head with an exasperated sigh and pulled his goggles on. “Okay, I get it. I’m bad with time. Just tell me what lanes we can use.”

Makoto grabbed his wrists and tugged him along, careful to avoid any puddles on the slippery ground that Haru could step in. He led him a few feet away from the locker room entrance before turning to him in an exaggerated whisper. “Who was that? Why was a Samezuka swimmer looking at you?” he hissed.

“What? I don’t know. I had to ask some guy to take me to the lockers, it might have just been him.”

“You _talked_ to the guy?” Makoto’s voice rose in pitch.

Haru just smirked. “Do I smell jealousy?”

Makoto made a “Humph!” noise. “Just put your swim cap on.”

“You know that’s my special power. With my sight gone, all my other senses heighten. I can smell your emotions.”

“You’re a liar.”

“It’s true!”

“Just get in the pool, douche-bag.”

Haru smiled, leaning down to find the edge of the pool and let his hand float above the surface of the water for a moment to gauge how far down it was. The surface was only a few inches from the tile of the pool deck. Haru took a step backward, threw his hand infront of him, fingers splayed, before twirling them around at the shoulder and flying forward into the pool.

There it was.

Haru let out a quick puff of air underwater. He tilted his head above the surface just enough to grab a gulp of air in the dent his moving arm made, before tucking back down and kicking powerfully. He needed to make the most of his warm up, considering there wasn’t much time in the first place.

He was on his tenth stroke, thirtieth single-leg kick. He started counting off, fifteen, sixteen, three left until he was safe to -- 

The breath was knocked from Haru’s lungs as he crashed into the thick pad against the wall of the pool.

Haru stayed still for a moment. It was eerily quiet, with the water rushing past his head, over the sore patch on the base of his forehead, the straining muscles of his shoulder. It was almost peaceful.

With a gasp, he threw himself from the bottom of the pool and gulped in a lungful of air. _What? What was that?_ he thought. Scenes raced through his head. The pool couldn’t be a different size, could it? Wasn’t there some sort of regulation? There had to be. Unless it was just the side of the pool, the extra height changing his dive enough to send him ahead a few strokes early. How many, though? Haru shook his head and turned, before a hand grabbed his bicep and startled him.

“Sir! I’m going to have to ask you to clear the pool. Warm ups are over. You need to meet with your team.”

Haru took in a breath. “What?” he muttered. “No, you don’t understand, I’m blind, I need to --”

“Clearly you’re not _that_ handicapped or you wouldn’t have made it on the team. Now get out of the pool before I call security. We’re on a tight schedule.”

Haru’s mouth fell open, unable to formulate any sort of possible response as he was practically pulled out if the the pool by two gloved hands and shoved in the direction of --

_Makoto._

_Oh thank god,_ Haru thought. His heart was pounding in his chest painfully. It was too loud, all to loud, he needed it to be quiet or for the sounds to stop bouncing off the walls and let him think, if only for a few moments. He needed to think. He needed to be able to think. That was all, he just had to --

“Haru-chan, are you okay? You look a little shaken up.”

“I -- I need to -- I can’t tell what --”

He felt strong arms wrap around his shoulders and tug him forward. “Hey, shh, it’s fine just breathe. Breathe, Haru.”

“I’m -- I am, I’m fine, but the pool...it’s a different size and I forgot how many strokes I need to take before I turn and what if I make a fool of myself when I have to race? I won’t be allowed to swim in a meet again if they don’t think I can and I really like being on the swim team I really like you and --”

Haru paused when he felt something warm flicker against his forehead, resting for a moment before pulling away. “C’mon,” Makoto mumbled. “Let’s just sit in the locker room for a bit. Your races don’t start for another hour or so. We have enough time for...things.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so next is last chapter. MAybe. There might be an epilogue, but count on this being the second to last. HAve a nice Saturday, I know I wont.  
> Wish me luck!!!! (goes and cries anxiously)


	11. When You Were Young

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know guys, I'm lying when I say I was listening to "when you were young" by The Killers when I wrote this. I was predominantly listening to "I'm Not Gay, Guys" by J Pee and I'm not ashamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is mainly smut (who would have guessed?????) and the next chapter will be as well. What can I say. I'm still taking smut requests though! Check out the updated tags for a bit of a preview and feel free to comment/ message me on iisintrovert.tumblr.com to see more ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )

Haru stumbled along after Makoto as he was lead by the wrist, around a corner, another, and finally into the significantly-warmer locker room. His bare feet practically sang against the smooth tile, already sore from being planted on the cold concrete for just a couple minutes. Haru lifted them consecutively to crack his ankles.

He raised a hand and rubbed his face, breathing a heavy sigh into his palm. “Makoto, what am I going to do?” he groaned.

Makoto took his other hand in both of his own and led him into one of the showers before flicking on the hot water. A shaky breath made its way from Haru’s mouth. The hot water was amazing, running down his back in rivulets and soothing his muscles. _Calm,_ he thought. _Just stay calm._

He felt two large hands plant on his shoulders and relaxed into the touch. Makoto’s warm breath hit his ear. “Everything’s going to be fine. You know the water. You’re good with the water. You’ll do great in your race, and even if you don’t, then you’ll know what you need to adjust for the five hundred and the relay. All you need to do is calm down.” he said, voice low.

_Be still my beating heart._

Haru nodded. “I -- I can do that. Just give me a minute to... get calm, I guess.”

He felt Makoto’s chin rest on his shoulder for a moment before pulling back. “Is this -- is this okay?” he asked, voice shaking noticeably.

Haru frowned. Before he could open his mouth to say anything, Makoto had grabbed his biceps again and was apologizing profusely.

“I’m sorry! You’re not ready, that’s okay, that’s perfectly fine! I don’t have to -- I mean, we don’t have to -- I? I don’t even know, but I didn’t mean to just be so --”

Haru sighed, a small giggle escaping. “Makoto.” he began. “I can’t see. I have no idea what you mean.”

He could imagine him, hair framing his face and mouth open in a slight, surprised “oh.”

There was a shift, in height, in fabric, in...something, barely detectable under their words, and Haru waited patiently.

There was press against his hipbone, smooth, slightly wet, soft, like a caress. Haru gasped more from shock than anything else.

“Makoto?” he breathed.

“Just...well, I’d say relax, but that’s going to be a bit difficult.”

Haru raised an eyebrow at the underlying cockyness in Makoto’s words. He complied, though, letting his big hands shift his hips backwards until he was directly under the warm spray of the water and his back hit the tile behind him. Something pressed against his hipbone again -- Makoto. He left small, open-mouth kisses along the lines of his stomach, tongue darting out to catch droplets of water pooling on his skin. He sucked gently on Haru’s hipbone, just above the waistband of his swimming jammers.

“Fuck,” Haru whispered, raising a hand to his mouth to silence a whimper but only making it half way when the breathy sound left his lips. Heat wracked through his body. Terrible heat, burning his skin from the inside out, radiating off him in waves. He shifted on his feet, knees trembling in anticipation. His swim shorts were getting a bit... uncomfortable, to say the least.

But there was Makoto, and everything about him was comfortable, made Haru comfortable, his voice, his demeanor, his height, his mouth and how he kissed him gently but with just enough force to burn, and _fuck_ that mouth was ruining him.

“Makoto,” he breathed out.

“Is _this_ okay?” he asked.

“Confident bastard,” Haru muttered.

His hands gripped his hip bones hard, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into his waist as they slid down, slowly, too slowly, and Haru had to slap his hand over his mouth to conceal a particularly loud groan.

Makoto licked a strip of skin between his hips, tongue flat against Haru. “Is that a no?” he asked. _How did his voice get that deep? He’s not allowed to sound sexy, this is poor innocent_ Makoto.

“Yes, _yes,_ fuck, Mako -- please, don’t -- _hnng_ ,”

Makoto chuckled. His breath splayed across Haru’s damp skin. He shivered violently and curled over, head hanging low in the stream of warm water. This shouldn’t have been doing so much to him, but just knowing that it was _Makoto,_ he couldn’t help but suppress a gasp.

Makoto hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his swim shorts and pulled them down his legs, past his knees and planted his thumbs against the inside of his thighs, rubbing circles dangerously close to his erection.

“Ah, Mako, _please,_ it hurts.”

Makoto chuckled again and Haru bit down on his hand at the spark of green joining the heat pooling in his chest.

“Haru, I thought your best quality was endurance?” He asked, a pleasant lilt in his voice. He sounded too damn innocent for someone on their knees.

“Shut the fuck up you cocky bitch.” Haru grunted, removing his hand from his mouth to snarl weakly.

“I like it when you swear.”

“ _Fuck,_ ”

Haru moaned suddenly, feeling something rough and warm and _wet_ glide across his cock quickly, flicking upwards when he reached the underside of the head.

“You’re killing me, Haru.” Makoto grumbled. “I want to hear you.”

If Haru could have come from that alone, he would have.

He didn’t comply. He fit his hand over his mouth and moved his left to find and grip the back of Makoto’s head with shaking fingers, twining in the smooth strands of hair.

Haru did, however, nearly have a heart attack when he heard a flash of people cheering and the slam of a door nearly ten feet away from where he was standing. He bit his hand, hard, brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to keep his breathing under control when he felt Makoto smirk against his hipbone before fitting his lips over the head of his dick and sucking, _hard._

Makoto hummed against him as Haru dug his nails into his scalp. He hissed loudly as waves of pleasure wracked through his body. Heat pooled in his stomach as his thighs shivered and _fuck,_ there was someone washing their hands six feet away from them and Makoto was being an asshole.

He pushed his head down forward, taking more of his cock into his mouth before pulling back and swallowing. Haru could feel every movement of his tongue as it swirled around the sensitive underside until he nuzzled the fine hairs at his base and hollowed his cheeks.

Haru’s back arched and he let out a high pitched whine, despite having the heel of his hand in between his teeth.

He froze. The faucet outside their shower cubicle turned off, followed by the sound of feet slapping against tile and the door opening and slamming shut.

“Makoto, I’m going to -- hn! -- kill you.” he murmured weakly, speech punctuated by small gasps.

Makoto pulled away, grinning, and pressed a short kiss to the side of Haru’s mouth. “Sorry, should I stop?” he asked innocently.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

Haru looped both of his arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss him properly. It wasn’t anything like one of their other kisses. Instead of just taking it as Makoto languidly pulled him apart by the seams, he pressed forward with force. He lapped at Makoto’s lips hungrily and like he had been starved for kisses for hundreds of years. Makoto complied, opening his mouth and tilting his head for better access. He kissed with so much strength Haru’s head pressed against the tile wall. It was like he was only being suspended by Makoto touching him. His knees shivered and nearly turned to jello.

Makoto wrapped his hands around his hips and pulled him closer. His thigh slid between Haru’s legs and ground upwards, his own erection, straining in his shorts, rubbed against his deliciously and he gasped into the kiss and pulled away for a moment.

“Haru, you’re ruining me.” he murmured, peppering his face with tiny, soft kisses. Haru whined in response.

“Makoto,” he groaned with frustration, and just a touch of desperation, saying so much with just one word.

Makoto grinned. He rested his forehead against his shoulder and kissed gently, laving at his perfect collarbones.

In one fluid motion, he pulled down his own swim trunks and took their cocks in one hand, stroking with a twists of his wrist until Haru was a shivering, panting mess.

He gripped the back of his head and tugged, causing Makoto to let out a soft groan right next to his ear. He was repeating his name like a mantra.

“Mako -- oh _fuck_ I’m close, shit, _Makoto_ \--” He bucked his hips upward into Makoto’s hand, trying to relieve the growing pressure in his abdomen, the aching heat that was consuming him. “Mako, I’m gonna...”

Makoto bit down on his shoulder and ground his own cock down, relishing in the feeling of them rubbing together, of Haru’s short nails scraping his scalp, of how vocal he was acting, considering he rarely ever spoke more than a few sentences. He moved his lips up his neck softly until he reached just under his earlobe. “Come for me.” he whispered, before biting softly at the shell of his ear.

Haru gasped, coming as his legs finally gave out, whispering Makoto’s name in a hoarse voice. Makoto was only a few seconds after him..

He stayed that way for a few seconds, Makoto’s breath in his ear and hands supporting him under his thighs, until he could finally catch his breath enough to speak.

“Makoto,” he muttered. “I fucking love you.”

Makoto pressed a firm kiss to the side of his neck, then his cheek, and finally his mouth. “I love you too.” he whispered.

“How did you -- you haven’t -- you’re so innocent how are you supposed to know --”

He chuckled. “I may or may not have been practicing on ice pops for the past few weeks.”

Haru groaned and tipped his head back. “Jesus, Makoto, we had something going there and you ruined it. That was completely un-sexy.”

Makoto just giggled and planted his hands on Haru’s shoulders, easing him down to sit on the tile, which was now warmed nicely by the spray of water coming from the shower nozzle. He swiped his hands down his chest and stomach, rubbing his thighs gently to clean their mixed come off his front. Haru hummed like a cat.

“This is nice.” he noted. Makoto blushed, but continued to massage Haru’s thighs. Haru chuckled, his words coming out breathy and blissful. “I’m totally relaxed. I’m not even slightly nervous anymore. How am I going to swim? I can barely feel my legs.”

Makoto moved his hand back and delivered a firm smack against the side of Haru’s leg, nearly his butt.

Haru gasped weakly. “Okay, I take it back.”

He giggled. “That’s what I thought. You can do it, you just need to stretch properly, and have something else to eat. We have a bit of a wait before the one-hundred freestyle, anyway, and you’re the first of us four to swim an event. You’ll be fine. I know you’ll do great.” he assured, smiling into a quick kiss.

Groaning, Haru stood up shakily with his hands firmly clutching Makoto’s. “Help me walk, you dingus. It’s your fault anyway.”

Makoto chuckled. “You love me.”

“That I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° ) Yay love confessions and I'm a man whore.


	12. I love you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank my mom, for walking behind me ever so often and not questioning me when I change tabs lightning fast so she doesn't see what I'm writing, my dog, for being cute as fuck; and Neko-desire, for being an amazing betta reader and keeping up with my strange writing schedule and bad motivation!
> 
> This is basically really fluffy smut. That's all. It's also the longest chapter I've ever written. You're welcome. Follow me on tumblr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe it's over? Seriously you guys are so fucking great. This stupid thing has 56 subscriptions! That's hella rad! Anyway, without further ado, here's what you've all been waiting for.

The day had been exhausting.

Haru managed to completely bomb his 200 free, nearly disqualifying himself completely by touching the wall with his hand before going into his flipturn. But he had counted perfectly; relaxed and ready to swim his five hundred meters in an hour.

He finished the five-hundred in four minutes and thirty-nine seconds, a personal record. In second place, his time qualified for states.

But that was in two weeks. There was plenty of time for celebration later - at the moment he was only concerned with keeping his streak going and finishing up their team relay.

He knew Makoto was swimming flawlessly by the excited gasp from Nagisa in front of him and could tell from the time between Makoto jumping backwards into the water and Nagisa setting off that his length of the relay was strong. Makoto pulled himself from the pool dripping wet. He slung an arm around Haru and squeezed his shoulder. Rei was muttering to himself excitedly as he clambered up onto the starting block.

It was all Haru could do to stay quiet and breathe evenly as Nagisa pulled back into the flags and Rei rocketed himself from the frictioned piece of plastic and metal.

 

"You've got this," Makoto whispered into his ear, smiling on his neck. "You can do it. I believe in you."

Haru nodded nervously. It was the first time they had swam for speed and stakes outside of practice, and Haru wasn't sure his exchange would be legal for the sport. There was no way to tell if his feet were leaving the block before Rei's last sweeping butterfly stroke struck the wall timer pad.

"You've got my back?" he asked quietly, just low enough for only Makoto to hear.

"Of course."

He climbed slowly onto the block as Nagisa's cheering grew louder, now punctuated by loud, tired gasps from swimming his hardest, and Makoto gave his calf an assuring squeeze. Haru bent over and gripped the plastic boards he stood on.

Rei's splashes grew nearer and nearer by the second, until finally, Makoto took in a deep breath and shouted, "Go, Haru!"

He kicked off the board.

Silence.

The feeling of _blue_ surrounding him smoothly, like a cool bedsheet, awoke his senses and sent a shockwave of energy through him. His muscles coiled like springs as he shot through the water in a graceful curve upward, one two, three, three and a half --

His arm broke the surface just and time and Haru scooped forward with closed fingers, rocketing forward in the water. The silence was punctuated every few strokes when he lifted his head for a quick breath. He counted off in his head. Every kick, every stroke, all smoothly fitting together as he made a conscious effort to keep his body in a flat, horizontal line to split through the water.

Three more until his turn. two more, one more, one stroke duck butterfly kick turn plant feet kick off _push_ one more kick now _breathe_ \-- 

Haru kicked harder on his last lap, abandoning all precision and focusing only on swimming, finishing, getting to the end and feeling the pressure on his wrist as his palm smacked against the pad at the end of the lane.

It came quicker than he thought.

His hand graced the smooth black surface of the timing pad and he rocketed into it with little coordination, body following him in his path, flowing forward in the water propelled only by his own inertia. Haru tumbled for a second before he was able to regain his sense of direction. He pulled his head from the water and took in a lungful of air, gasping at its sharpness.

Cheering.

He could hear it all around him. People clapping, yelling, some crying out in astonishment, before familiar large hands wrapped around his biceps and pulled him from the water.

Haru stood on the pool deck in surprise as those same hands pulled him closer, curled around his back and a firm kiss pressed against his lips. All air was stolen from him and he felt a bit light headed.

Not that he was complaining.

Makoto let go of him with a cry of happiness, clapped him on the back before tucking Haru's head into his shoulder and squeezing him quite thoroughly.

And Haru laughed along with him.

He wasn't sure why they were all so excited, why people were yelling along with just them and their team, but he got a sense of accomplishment when Rei and Nagisa joined them in a bone-crushing hug.

The laughter and noise died down after a bit, Nagisa clapping him on the back while proclaiming, "We did it! We beat Samezuka!" and Haru realized what had happened.

The swim team, one everyone apparently hated, had lost the relay to them.

Not only that, but the whole team was going to swim at states.

Haru pulled Makoto in for another quick kiss before gasping tiredly and sitting down on their small set of bleachers.

Miss Amakata tapped him on the shoulder and congratulated him.

He pulled his cap and goggles off. His towel was slung around his shoulders to collect the streams of water falling from his wet hair. And he was happy. Completely content.

It wasn't about the win, necessarily, but there was something...sitting in the back of his mind, causing absolute euphoria, just from being able to swim with his team, as a unit.

Makoto plopped down next to him. "Did you see it?" he asked excitedly.

"Mako, I'm blind."

"I know that, Haru-chan! Seesh, I was just wondering if you...if you _felt_ it. The feeling of something you've -- that you've never felt it before. It's amazing and wonderful but it doesn't make much sense."

Haru smiled to himself. "Of course, Makoto." he said. It wasn't a lie, but he wasn't talking about swimming either when he said he knew exactly what he was talking about. He reached out, his palm facing upward, and Makoto took his hand in one of his and squeezed gently.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

On the bus, the four of them sat in the two rows of seating in the back, far from the eyes of Gou or Miss Amakata. Makoto sat lengthwise with his feet propped up on the opposite bench. Haru rested in between his legs with his head on his chest. He could hear the steady thump of Makoto’s heart beat against his ear, peaceful and green and monotonous in their little pocket of the universe. It didn’t take much for Haru to want to fall asleep.

That, of course, was when he heard the unmistakable noise of people kissing.

Haru knew Makoto heard it as well, felt his body tense underneath him and looked up with a bemused expression on his face.

“Nagisa?” he whispered.

Makoto peaked over the edge of the seat in front of him, his face turning bright red.

“They’re making out!” he whispered frantically.

Haru just chuckled. Of course they were. He knew they were making some attempts to hide it from them, but really, they couldn’t be any less subtle. He shook his head and nuzzled into Makoto’s chest as he wrapped his arms around his shoulders, and felt, for the first in a very long time, completely at home.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Something shifted underneath him as the bus stopped.

Haru frowned, tilting his head towards the warm blanket underneath him. The bed was firm, warm, perfect, just a bit...human? Haru lifted his head, looked up as Makoto smiling down at him with sleep in his eyes.

“Good morning, Haru-chan. Well, afternoon more like.”

“Drop the ‘-chan.’” he grumbled.

Makoto just giggled, and continued to jostle Haru’s arm until he let out a loud yawn and sat up, still curled in Makoto’s lap.

“C’mon boys, we don’t have all day!” Gou called from the front of the bus.

Haru rolled his eyes and picked himself up, reaching out to take Makoto’s hand and pull him to a standing position. He grabbed their bags from the rack above their heads and pulled them out. Makoto took his and gingerly touched his back in a comforting, absentminded manner, leading him forward into the body of the bus, over Nagisa and Rei’s outstretched legs and up to where Gou and Miss Amakata were sitting in the front of the bus.

“See you on Monday,” Haru grumbled tiredly. Gou nodded politely, energetically even.

Haru just wanted to sleep.

They got off the bus and watched it drive away on the corner, not quite wanting to waste any energy, instead feeling like they could just stand, be content to rest in the cooling summer air. The sun was about to set. Wind flitted evenly between the blades of grass and the leaves on the trees leading up to both of their houses. It was peaceful.

Haru didn’t even have to see to know what it must have looked like. It must have been beautiful. But that wasn’t what Haru cared about.

He held his hand out for Makoto to take, and he complied, twining his fingers with Haru’s.

“Can I -- can I stay at your place tonight?”

Makoto leaned over and nuzzled the side of his head. “You’re always welcome to stay over, you know that.”

“Hmm,” he hummed in agreement. “I just really want to go to sleep. That’s it.”

“I do to.” Makoto said, tugging at their joined hands and leading him forward. “C’mon. Lets just...go to bed.”

 

~~~~~~~~~

It was the best sleep Haru had had in awhile.

The bed was soft, cushy, warm, the comforter fluffy and tucked neatly over his shoulder, tangled a bit in his legs along with -- another pair of legs. Haru smiled. He tipped his head back and was met with the realization that Makoto’s chin rested on top of his. His arm curled over his stomach protectively. Haru was positively giddy.

Until he felt something press against his back, and froze. Makoto shifted, burying his nose in Haru’s hair and breathing deeply, a leg lifting to hook over Haru’s.

“Makoto,” he mumbled, moving to wake him up when he heard his breath stutter.

“Haru…” he whined sleepily.

Haru shifted again, a bit more… _purposefully_ this time.

The arm around his front clung to him tighter and Makoto breathed into his hair, a small whine escaping.

_Of course,_ he thought. He didn’t blame him, really, only thought it was a bit ironic that the one time they weren’t trying to get into each other’s pants… _this_ happened.

Haru chuckled to himself. _Might as well..._

He took Makoto’s hand and ground his butt backward into his legs purposefully, listening for a reaction. Boy, did he get one.

Both of his arms clung to him like he was the only sturdy branch of a shaking tree, about to send him flying to the ground. His breath hitched violently, head tilted and back curving him around Haru’s smaller form. He panted into his ear loudly.

Haru grinned. If he could get that kind of reaction from such a simple movement…

But he wasn’t cruel. he turned around quickly, squirming in Makoto’s crushing grip and found his face with his hands, using his thumbs to guide his lips and pepper kisses along his cheekbones, finding his lips effortlessly and moving against them smoothly.

He felt Makoto’s heart beat harder as he woke up and kissed back without hesitation, a bit needy and desperate but sweet, slow, like there was nothing else in the world he’d rather be doing.

“Good morning.” Haru whispered, pulling back and received a peck on the nose.

“Haru, you’re killing me.” he whined, nuzzling into his neck. Haru felt Makoto’s feverish skin heat up even more at the contact.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have invited me to take a nap with you when we’ve both been thirsty as -- _fuck,_ ”

Haru gasped again as Makoto cupped him firmly through his sweatpants.

Makoto grinned into his neck. “What was that?” he asked in what Haru was beginning to view as his ‘definitely not innocent’ voice, as he twisted his wrist to grind the heel of his palm into Haru’s crotch.

“Mako…” Haru breathed, tipping his head forward until his forehead met the side of his neck and let out a shaky gasp.

“Should I stop?”

“If you do I swear to god I will flay you alive and mail your body parts to your family in the city please, just -- hngh!”

Makoto flipped them over so he rested between Haru’s legs and pressed their lips together, kissing him breathless. Haru breathed into the kiss, his noises pulled away from him and swallowed into fervent silence and oh god he wanted to be here all day. Just here, warm and safe, _close_ , with Makoto hovering over him like he was afraid he was going to break if he put any strain on him. He needed to feel him closer. Needed for him to _be_ closer.

“Makoto,” he breathed out between fierce kisses. “Please, I want -- I want to --”

Makoto nodded, kissing his cheek in such a sweet, thoughtful gesture Haru felt his heart break.

“I love you.” Makoto stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

“I love you too.” Haru whispered, lifting his arms to curl around his shoulders and grip his shirt tightly in one hand, his hair in another. His nails scraped lightly across Makoto’s scalp, eliciting a quiet gasp.

Makoto pulled away suddenly.

“Mako -- what --” Haru didn’t protest when he was being rid of his shirt, groaned quietly when warm hands spread out along his torso and traced the definition in his stomach, trailed up his sides gingerly. Lips pressed against his collarbone, kissing, licking softly before Makoto bit down and sucked and Haru couldn’t keep himself from letting out a quite embarrassing, but mostly satisfactory moan of delight.

“Sensitive there, I see?”

“Makoto if you’re not naked in _five minutes_ I will sneak protein powder in your Iwatobi bread for three weeks.”

Makoto chuckled. “But we were having such a nice nap.”

Haru grumbled. “Yeah, I’m aware. Then you had to go and ruin it by getting a hard-on.”

“You view this as a bad thing?”

“I swear to fucking god stop being such a cheeky little shit and fuck me, you asshole.”

Makoto groaned into Haru’s neck and gripped his hips hard, nails digging into his soft skin. “I love you and your shitty dirty talk.”

Haru chuckled before the breath was stolen from his chest. Makoto licked up his neck, stopping at his jugular and sucking gently, trailing open mouthed kisses down his neck as his hands slipped under the fabric of Haru’s sweatpants and boxers. He gripped his thighs tightly and shifted away, _no, come back_ before moving his hips over Haru’s and grinding down firmly.

Haru was having a hard time breathing.

Makoto’s breath went shaky in his ear as he continued, rocking his hips up at a torturously slow pace. Haru’s hands scrabbled against his back, trying to gain some sort of purchase or solidity or _something_ because his legs were turning to jello and he couldn’t take any air in and _oh god_ he never wanted this to stop.

“Please,” he whimpered out despite himself, shaky fists gripping Makoto’s shirt and tugging desperately. He complied, leaning away just enough to lift his arms and pull the shirt over his head. Haru ran his hands over his back muscles, tracing the lines of his shoulders, relishing in the feeling of bare skin against his own.

Makoto peppered his chest with kisses, sucking gently and biting down just firm enough for it not to leave a mark. His hips stuttered, trying to maintain their slow pace but desperation bled into _need_ and if he stayed like that any longer he didn’t know if he’d be able to stop.

“Haru…” he breathed, pulling away and resting on his hands and knees despite the whine of protest from the boy underneath him. “I need...I need to hear you say it. It’s not fair for me to -- to just start and _then_ ask, but I have to, I need you to tell me this is okay. I need you to talk to me.”

“You...ridiculous… _asshole_.” Haru gasped out, chest heaving. “I want you.”

“Haru,” Makoto groaned. “This...this is me, I’m sensitive and I care too much about others, I need to know for sure --”

“For sure?” Haru breathed. “Makoto, you’re perfect. You don’t care too much you care because you love people and I love you and I _want_ to and if you don’t do something right now I think I might explode.”

Makoto chuckled dryly. “You know, you talk more when you’re turned on then what I’ve ever heard from you.”

“Call it my hidden talent.” Haru grumbled, planting his hands on Makoto’s chest. “Do you have the stuff?”

“The stuff?”

“The -- you know what I’m talking about!”

He laughed. “I know, I just wanted to hear you say lube and condoms.”

Haru shivered. “Stop that. I’m too innocent.”

“I gave you a blowjob in public.”

“Innocent!”

Makoto sighed into Haru’s neck and planted a firm kiss on his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too, dweeb, but I am not barebacking you.”

With a laugh, Makoto pulled away and fished around in his bedside table for a moment before returning, setting “the stuff” down next to Haru and kissing him quite thoroughly boneless. His hands trailed down his sides, resting at his thighs before tugging gently at the drawstring of his sweatpants, as if to ask permission. Haru gasped into the kiss, pulling Makoto’s torso down to be closer to him and planted his feet on the mattress, lifting his hips so he could pull down his pants and boxers.

Makoto pulled away, leaving open mouthed kisses down his neck, shoulder, chest, trailing to his thigh before licking out gently and sucking just away from the base of Haru’s cock.

“Fuck, Mako, how are you so good at this,”

“Call it my ‘hidden talent.’” he breathed, licking a strip upwards before settling at the head and wrapping his lips around it, sucking once before pulling away completely. “How do you want it?”

“What -- it’s sex, Mako, you just stick your dick up my ass.”

“I mean what _position_ , you nerd.”

Haru chuckled. “Hell if I know. Whatever’s most comfortable?”

“You say that like I’m some sort of expert.” Makoto grumbled.

“Hey, you’re the one who can actually _watch_ porn, I had to figure things out by myself. All by myself.”

“What are you trying to insinuate here?”

“I’m trying to -- oh, fuck, _fuck_ shit, do that again.”

Makoto grinned, sucking gently at the base of his cock before moving downward again and pressing the flat of his tongue against his entrance. He licked upwards slowly, the tip of his tongue pressing gently against him with just enough pressure for Haru to moan into the palm of his hand.

He reached up, not ceasing his ministrations, and took Haru’s hand away from his mouth. He planted it in his hair. “C’mon, we’re not in public. I want to hear you.”

A shaky gasp fell from his lips as Makoto bit playfully at the inside of his thighs. His tongue lapped out again, pressing harder this time, and Haru groaned.

“Oh, fuck, Makoto…” he choked out, twining his fingers in the soft hair underneath them. “Please, I -- I need you in me.”

Makoto had to close his eyes to get his heart to calm down or he would’ve came from just those words alone. With a shaky hand, he grabbed the small bottle of lube and snapped it open, the sound ringing out in the small bedroom. He poured a bit onto his fingers, rubbing them together to warm up the liquid to a comfortable temperature.

“This -- it might burn a little but it shouldn’t hurt. Tell me if it’s too much.”

Haru nodded. “I’m fine. Just do it.”

Makoto took his cock in his left hand and brought his index finger to Haru’s entrance, massaging gently as he stroked him. Haru groaned, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, his head tipped back into the pillow behind him. Makoto lifted one of his legs and rested it against his shoulder for easier access, jacking Haru off with a firm grip and pressing his finger just past the first ring of muscle.

Haru sucked in a breath, wincing slightly.

“Is it okay?” Makoto asked pressing a gentle kiss against the inside of his knee.

“It just kind of -- burns?”

“Does it hurt?”

“Not particularly.” Haru said through a gasp. “I can’t really tell with how you’re...ah, _shit,_ ”

Makoto grinned, stroking just a bit slower and running the pad of his thumb in circles down the head of his cock. He waited for him to relax a bit under him, before edging his finger in slowly, all the way down to the last knuckle. He shifted a bit, rubbing gingerly against his inner walls with the tip of his finger, sinking in just a bit deeper.

Haru gasped, chest heaving.

Makoto raised an eyebrow. “Do you feel good?” he asked in a low voice, humming against the soft skin of his inner thigh.

Haru positively whimpered.

Taking that as a ‘yes,’ Makoto crooked his finger and pulled out an inch before sinking back into Haru’s tight heat. He nearly gasped himself just from the sight of it.

Haru groaned, nails digging into Makoto’s biceps, back arching off the bed just slightly. Shocked mewls fell from his mouth uncontrollably. “Oh, fuck, Mako _please_ yes, do that again, oh _god,_ ”

Makoto complied, pushing in and curling his finger up into his walls purposefully, turning his wrist and stroking his cock along with it. Haru damn near started speaking another language. “Mako, Mako fuck please more I need -- I -- oh god, please Makoto -- ah!”

He pulled his index finger out with a whine of protest, before pushing in with a second. He hooked them upwards and dragged them along, massaging and rubbing with each individually until Haru was panting underneath him. He kissed his trembling thigh, licking at the skin gently and abandoned his cock in favor of slipping his arm under his hips and lifting his ass, letting his fingers dip in and out at a different angle. He leaned forward to press a kiss against Haru’s earlobe, nearly bending him in half as he finger-fucked him.

“Is it good, Haru?” he whispered into an open mouthed kiss to his jugular and Haru whimpered out his name. He pulled his fingers out for a second before teasing him with three, pushing them inside and relishing at the sound of breath leaving him completely. He could probably just do this until he came and be completely satisfied.

“Makoto,” Haru whined in response, “I need -- _fuck,_ I need you in me.”

He gasped, screwing his eyes shut just to keep the stars from flooding his vision and mental awareness. If all the blood in his body hadn’t yet been in his cock, it was now. Shit, it was painful how turned on he was.

“Jesus, Haru you can’t just say things like that, _fuck,_ ” he breathed.

Haru dug his nails into Makoto’s shoulders and hummed, rolling his hips down shakily to meet his fingers. “Makoto,” he practically growled at him.

He pulled away and clambered beside him, grabbed a condom and tore the foil wrapper with his teeth. Slid it on himself with one hand, hissing at the little contact before pulling his fingers away from Haru reluctantly and slicking himself up with lube.

He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Haru’s lips, licking into his mouth softly and nibbling at his bottom lip. He pulled away with a peck, breathing softly into his cheek. He pulled the pillow out from behind Haru’s head and lifted his hips, settling him down on top of the soft down. Seeing his confused face, he kissed his cheek softly. “It’s so you’re hips don’t get too sore,” he explained, gripping his thighs protectively.

Haru nodded, sighing into the sheets below him. “Please, just do _something,_ it hurts,” he muttered, a slight blush lighting up his cheeks.

Makoto couldn’t help but grin cheesily. he nuzzled into Haru’s collarbone and kissed him gently, practically giggling. “I love you.” he chuckled. 

“Fuck you.” Haru muttered. “No, wait. Stop being cheesy. Fuck me.”

Makoto gripped his hips and pressed the head of his cock against his entrance, pushing in slowly with shaky fingers digging into the soft skin of Haru’s legs, one swung over his shoulder and the other looped around his waist, and _shit_ he was holding on by a thread. Tight heat enveloved him perfectly, slick with lube and it was Haru and amazing and nerve wracking and he wasn’t sure if he would be able to hold back but he didn’t really care, digging his nose into Haru’s neck and kissing him sloppily, sucking a mark into the juncture of his neck and throat, biting without regard for who would see. The fact that people _would_ see excited him even further.

Haru shivered underneath him, arms curled around his neck.

“Does it hurt?” Makoto whispered.

“Don’t move for a second,” Haru breathed out, lifting Makoto’s face and kissing him, hands planted on either cheek, thumbs stroking under his eyes softly.

“I take it that means it hurts like a bitch?”

Haru nodded, wincing slightly. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Makoto said, nuzzling his cheek lovingly.

Haru chuckled weakly. “Sorry.”

Makoto trailed a hand down his leg, gripped his cock and tugged upwards. Haru relaxed underneath him, head tipping back and digging into the mattress below him. “I’m...I’m fine now,” he mumbled.

“You sure?” he asked, leaning forward onto his knees, hitching Haru up by his creamy thighs.

“Makoto, move,” he whined. Sensing his hesitance, he grit his teeth, tilting his head back and clenched around Makoto as hard as he could muster. The strangled groan that fell into his neck was worth it.

Makoto gripped his hips hard enough to bruise, pulling back a few inches before pressing forward in a hard thrust. Haru whimpered.

They fell into a smooth rhythm, Makoto leaving a myriad of hickeys on Haru’s neck and chest, thrusting evenly and at a terribly slow pace, pushing and pulling, groaning into Haru’s skin. He pulled him closer with every thrust. Every place their skin met was like fire, heat lighting up from the inside out, burning their skin wonderfully.

Haru rolled his hips downwards, gasping loudly into Makoto’s shoulder when his thrust brushed against his prostate and his vision turned white. His nails begged for purchase against his back, scratching lightly as he tried to regain some sense of steadiness. And there was _him_. holding him practically together as he was falling apart by the seams, biting down on his shoulder to muffle a particularly embarrassing moan.

“Fuck, Makoto, _right there,_ ” he choked out, clutching his back.

Makoto continued to assault his prostate at the same angle, breathing out Haru’s name desperately as he sucked another mark onto Haru’s jugular.

“Haru, I’m so close.” he mumbled breathily.

Haru pulled his head up again, kissing him hard and sloppily and perfectly, and bit at his lip lightly. “Come for me,” he whispered against his skin.

Makoto groaned again, his thrusts becoming erratic. He gripped Haru’s cock in one hand and pumped him quickly. Haru whispered his name against his lips.

With a silent cry, Makoto came the hardest he had since...well, ever.

He pulled out and replaced his cock with his fingers, finding Haru’s prostate and massaging deliberately until his back arched clean off the bed and he came, painting his stomach and Makoto’s hand.

They lied like that for a few minutes, Makoto shaking with heavy breathing, Haru completely boneless and struggling to suck air into his lungs, Makoto’s name still frozen on his lips. It was nice. Peaceful even.

He sat up on the mattress, careful not to disturb Haru, and unrolled the used condom before tying it off and throwing it in the general direction of the trashcan by his desk.

Haru chuckled weakly underneath him. “You’re -- you’re not supposed to throw condoms, idiot.” he breathed.

Makoto smiled and let his leg fall from his shoulder. “I love you.” he chuckled.

“And I can’t feel my legs.”

With a hearty laugh, Makoto slid up beside him and wrapped his limp form in his arms. “You’re beautiful, Haru.” he whispered.

Haru grinned faintly. “Everything about you is beautiful.”

“You...you can’t see me.”

Haru pecked his cheek, and whispered, just before falling into the grasp of sleep. “I don’t need to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then they showed up to swim practice with matching smug looks and matching hickeys. Nagisa still hasn't stopped screaming "I knew it!"
> 
> Follow me on tumblr and message me prompts and pairings to get shit written for you. Same url as on here!


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